Preamble Binds
by JazzyGirlFriday
Summary: After five years Jo Polniaczek returns to New York City and Blair Warner suddenly finds herself in a newly appointed corporate position. Relationships change over time...so do hearts. Jo and Blair are suddenly thrust into a tumultuous journey in learning about what they want in life and love.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own _The Facts Of Life_ or any of the characters from the show. I do lay claim to any of my own made up peeps however. No profit, just fun.**

 **Author's Note** **: _The Facts Of Life_ was one of my favorite television shows when I was young. I've always felt the chemistry between Jo Polniaczek and Blair Warner was really special, but it took almost 30 years to really "see" the specialness and appreciate that it could have blossomed into something more. I wanted to continue their story with this attempt at fiction. It depicts how their relationship may have turned out with all the twists and turns of dealing with friends, family, career's and relationships.**

* * *

 ** _Story Note/Premise_** **:** This story takes place in present day. I've also aged the girls about 5 years. I just thought it would be easier to relate to everything that way. So, Blair and Jo are in their late twenties, and Nat and Tootie are in their mid to early twenties. The story is based from the last episode of season 8 - when Jo takes a job in California and Blair decides on a law career – plus five years ...so essentially there was no season 9 in my world...no Jo marriage, no Casey, etc.

 **Special Thanks:** and Kudo's to my _Super_ Beta's **Zebeza** for the hand holding, ass kicking, advice and guidance and **Gin** for the support and encouragement...you guy's freakin' rock...

 **I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **Preamble Binds**

 **My family. We are not close. But we are strong willed. Even within our grief we present ourselves as _unbreakable_. My father's brother, uncle Russell, was a strong willed man who believed in order and demanded respect. Losing him caused a ripple on the surface that in time felt like a mighty wave. **

* * *

**Introduction**

 _East Hampton, NY_

* * *

Several figures stood solemnly on the white sandy beach - the incoming waves crashed against the rocky banks a bit further down the shore, as a thin mist carried over. The salt air was warm and humid.

It was six in the evening. The sun was still high and on this August day the moment was _almost_ scenic.

Almost…

The private ceremony was one of sadness and bereavement. Ashes were released from a ceramic urn as the eldest stated a brief prayer. There were a few more moments of quiet reflection as the ashes settled on the crest tops of the waves, gently carrying them out to sea.

The small group began to walk back up the path that led to a gigantic white-painted brick mansion.

Joyce Warner, 83 and stricken with rheumatoid arthritis, was helped to her wheelchair. She righted it on the cobbled path. She was dressed in her finest society dress. It was black, Italian made, lace trimmed, along with a floppy sun hat - it was given to her by her son Russell earlier that summer.

Her cheeks were moist as she watched the others start up the walkway. She was distraught. She'd lost her beloved husband, David Sr., five years earlier and then - too soon - her son, Russell, to a sudden heart attack.

It was just _too_ much at once.

Joyce's wheelchair was powered by motor and allowed her to slowly roll up the path alongside the others. She lagged back a bit, looking up at the sky. It was a clear day with a few scattered clouds. A couple of seagulls flew low and close to them.

Joyce suddenly reached out, barely touching the pant leg of her grandson, Robert. "Russell, look! Look at the birds! Oh Russell, the birds, did you… _feed_ them?" Her voice cracked with sadness.

Robert had his head bent down, his full attention on the screen of his mobile phone. He'd spent the majority of the funeral, the reception, and the private ceremony, engrossed in it; barely sparing anyone notice. Even when they'd extended their condolences, he'd managed only a grunt, and then turned to escape into a corner of the church.

He caught the eye of his cousin _Blair_ , who gave him a direct stare; lightly shaking her head with disapproval. Robert scoffed at her, then spared his grandmother a glance.

"Yes." He said quickly hoping to appease her.

Blair and Robert were very close in age and appearance. They were both blonde, tan and beautiful, as well as _very_ ambitious. They'd even managed to dress alike for the funeral. He in khaki pants and a white buttoned down shirt. She in a simple white cotton blouse and light brown skirt which came to just above the knee with dark brown four inch pumps to accentuate her ensemble.

Blair turned sympathetically toward her grandmother. She bent down to meet her eyes and patted her on the arm. "Nana, you should go lie down." She stated gently.

"Oh, Russell! _Russell_ … the birds," Joyce said, distraught.

"I'll take her now." A petite blonde, Blair's stepsister Meg, came behind the wheelchair and turned the motor off. She gave Joyce a linen handkerchief to dab free flowing tears that had began to run down her cheeks.

"There, _there_ Joyce. We'll get you ice water and then rest." She cooed.

Joyce nodded her head as she was wheeled back to the main house.

Meg had struggled a little at the entrance through the back patio. The sidewalk had a rough patch that needed to be smoothed out… not the most friendly for wheelchairs. But Meg was adamant about getting Joyce into bed and practically lifted the family matriarch over the threshold.

Blair watched as they entered the house, before the beveled patio doors were shut tight. She turned to regard her cousin, his thumbs were flying furiously over his phone screen.

She frowned. "You could at least _pretend_ to grieve."

Robert didn't bother to look up. "Have already… on my time, in my own way." He said dismissively.

"I meant for Nana's sake." Blair said sternly. His attitude was starting to wear on her nerves.

Robert spared her a glance, chuckling. "Like she wouldn't _see_ through me."

Blair folded her arms and waited for him to continue. She knew Robert hadn't been particularly close to his father, but still…

The pinging noises of his phone sounded in the quiet air between them. Robert hated his cousin's overbearing air… it irritated him.

He drew in a reluctant breath finally looking up from the screen. "Besides, I have a lot to think about. My father would want me to concentrate on more _important_ things. The company won't run on its own," he chirped snidely.

Blair smirked at that, and met her cousin's eyes, lifting an eyebrow.

"Let me know if you need any _tips_." Robert sneered before sending one last message and turning his phone off. He stuffed it in his pocket and turned to head up the path toward the house. Blair followed him into the main _Grande_ room.

Robert abruptly halted at the bar and turned to search the liquor cabinet for the large container of scotch his uncle David always kept full. He grabbed a glass tumbler from the bar shelf and a bowl of ice cubes from the mini freezer and set them on the bar.

Blair leaned against the polished wooden bar watching her cousin as he found what he was looking for. He set the container of liquor on the wooden surface with a loud _thunk_.

She decided to press the issue. "Now Robert, if you have anything you need to tell me, either tell me _now_ or fill out a form and put it in the suggestion box. Our fathers wouldn't want us to waste time arguing, would they?" She chided, then put on a sickly sweet grin for effect.

Robert glared at her and uncorked the bottle, "Oh, but it's all yours now, isn't it? What difference would it make what I have to say about anything… _Madame President_."

Bending at the waist, he bowed in a grand gesture that had Blair rolling her eyes at the spectacle. Robert straightened, then furiously threw four ice cubes into his tumbler.

"Shhh! You're going to wake Nana!" Meg came from around the partition, joining them at the bar.

"Oh _sorry_!" Robert replied sarcastically. He poured a glass full then took a long draw from the tumbler.

Blair blew out a breath, catching Robert's eyes as he glared at her over the rim of his glass. "When are you going back?" She stated with an air of _fake_ innocence.

"Trying to get rid of me so soon, cous?" Robert said between sips; wincing each time the liquor hit the back of his throat.

"No. Just wondering." Blair put on a look of indifference and started to trace light circles on top of the bar with her index finger. She peered up at him a few times as she did.

Robert watched her. He had reeled in his anger; if not for the sake of the day, out of respect for his deceased father. He was careful _not_ to start a fight with his cousin, but his temper was always boiling at the surface.

"Don't tell me. Afraid I'll ruin things for you on your first day tomorrow? _tsk, tsk._ Don't worry. I won't cramp your style." He emptied the tumbler, and then refilled it.

"I'm not worried." Blair smiled smugly. "Besides, I don't officially start until Monday." She reminded. "I was just wondering how _your_ division is doing is all. I have some… _ideas_."

Robert blanched at Blair's statement, then snorted. "Ideas." He said flatly. He skeptically looked her up and down.

Blair moved to retrieve her own glass. She gestured to Meg, silently inquiring if she would like a drink. Meg shook her head _no_ , and was, quite frankly, tired of watching the two of them go back and forth. She sighed, propping her chin in her palm and positioned herself at the bar to observe their next _round_.

Blair pulled a glass bottle from the refrigerator and poured a generous amount of liquid. She noticed Robert watching her and smirked. "Club Soda." She continued, "I have a few things I may need to run by the executive board soon, depending of course..."

"On?" Robert looked at her guardedly.

"How well your division is doing." Blair reiterated. She took a sip and simply watched her cousin absorb that.

With a lopsided smile, Robert shook his head… not bothering to reply. He dismissively turned his back and walked across the room to the couch; then loosened his tie while tossing back the last of his liquor. He set the empty glass on a side table.

Blair continued. "I expect you to contact me immediately once you arrive in Tokyo." She rounded the bar and walked over to him. "That way we can converse about my ideas."

Robert turned and held up a hand. "Whoa... Wait a minute. You want me to go along with… what, exactly?

"I told you… ideas I have." Blair cocked her head and blinked at him.

"Oh, so you're serious? Well now… this should be interesting," Robert said condescendingly. "Let's see... " He mockingly crossed his arms and rubbed his chin in thought.

"You've only worked in operations for barely a year. You don't know a thing about production, other than _legal_ issues... oh and you haven't even officially taken the big chair yet and you want me to help you with some... _scheme_?" He spat.

"Ah, ah, ah... " Blair wagged a beautifully manicured finger. "Careful, your confidence in me is slipping."

Robert glared at his cousin. He grabbed the blazer he had thrown on the couch earlier and turned to leave. "I'll take that as a compliment about my good judgment. Besides, you don't really want my input, now, do you?"

Blair blocked Robert, leaning in close. "Well, I did promise Daddy we would come together as a family unit," she purred then cracked a smile.

Robert cut his eyes to Meg who shrugged her shoulders in return.

He looked at Blair, eyeing her skeptically. "And you think I'll blindly go along with whatever you have cooked up?"

Blair silently chuckled. She felt slightly amused; she could smell the liquor on his breath. "Relax. It's strictly business."

Robert was _truly_ intrigued now. "Really? Unlike… "

"Nothing personal this time… I swear." She patted his shoulder patronizingly.

He smirked then shrugged her off. " _This time_. Remind me not to get involved with any more of your personal pursuits." He moved to exit again.

Blair put a hand on his chest and pinned him with brown eyes. "Not even if I can offer you a great deal?" She lifted a brow in question.

Robert snorted a chuckle. "Well, that usually goes in _your_ favor, doesn't it, Blair? Especially considering your… _proclivities_." He clumsily tried to shove her hand away.

"Which, as of late, haven't been secrets." Blair pointedly reminded her dear cousin.

Meg rolled her eyes at them for the billionth time. Dear lord they were irritating when they argued. Given the circumstances of the day, one would think they'd give it a rest. She sighed, "Guys, I don't think this is a good time for... "

"Forget it! This is bullshit!" Robert flashed angry eyes at them.

He ignored Meg as he quickly went around Blair. Tossing the blazer over his shoulder, he then turned and regarded his cousin. His eyes flashed barely concealed anger.

"Better watch your back, dear cous." He winked at her then started to walk - slightly wobbly - down the long hall leading to the front door of the mansion. "You're in the spotlight now. Wouldn't want to disappoint the family," he tossed back at both of them.

Blair and Meg watched as Robert fumbled with the doorknob before finally opening it. Smirking, Meg crossed her arms and leaned back against the bar.

"He's up to something." She breathed.

Blair smiled at his clumsiness and let out a soft sound of amusement. Robert gave them one last look before slamming the door shut.

Blair sipped her drink - a small feeling of satisfaction floated through her. "Not worried. He'll be thousands of miles away soon enough."


	2. Chapter 2

_Manhattan, NYC_

A blaring horn shrieked, jolting the figure atop a vintage red Harley Davidson. Green eyes narrowed, rush hour traffic was a _bitch_ and on a Friday, nonetheless. A black boot tapped impatiently on the brake it was resting on.

A stale and foul smelling aroma wafted from a nearby manhole forcing its way underneath the open edges of the metallic red helmet of the biker.

Lips pursed, then blew out a long breath as traffic slowly gave way, inch by inch. The loud engine of the motorcycle roared forward, only to come to a complete stop after about three measly yards. _Typical_. Just a regular, gridlocked, late afternoon in the city that never sleeps.

The horn blared again. "Son of a…"

The biker was only able to cut off the blasphemous outburst after years of being constantly berated for her colorful use of language. Sighing, she put her feet on the ground for balance. The edgy young woman removed thin black rider's gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of a brown leather bomber jacket.

A strong hand smoothed back the dark ponytail that was hanging out from under the helmet. The sun was bright and scorching, _as_ dry lips formed a sideways grin. At least the decision to wear mirrored aviators was a good one _._ They were pushed back onto a slick and sweaty nose that resided on a pretty, yet strong face; complete with flushed high cheekbones and matching sweaty bangs.

A courier zipped in between the cars, almost knocking into the Harley, as a swift jet of air whizzed past the biker. Only a blur of spandex was seen as the courier pedaled around the corner.

"Show off."

She examined the surrounding scene. This was Manhattan; the heart of the city. Everyone was trying to get to their destination at the same time, which meant touchy tempers and sharp tongued commentary. Car windows were rolled down as their occupants shared sneering glances; a silent hatred for all things slow and uncomfortable in the New York City heat.

The dark haired rider chuckled as she remembered witnessing many an out-of-towner gawk at the daily gridlock a little too long, only to be schooled in the delicacies of traffic etiquette by the natives; complete with an array of expletives, piercing car horns and the occasional love tap on the back bumper. A slight grin formed at the memories. She loved it…

She'd _missed_ it.

The brunette was abruptly nudged from reminiscing when her pants pocket suddenly vibrated. "Whoa… I've got to get used to this thing." Fumbling a bit, she pulled out her mobile phone and examined the screen. "Ah crap." She tapped it then stuffed it back in her jeans pocket. The brake was released as the Harley lurched forward another ten feet.

Several horns behind blared loudly. "Yeah, yeah…."

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she slumped down on the motorbike and tapped her foot on the brake, wishing for the thousandth time for one of those Star Trek transporter things right about now… and who didn't when they were _extremely_ late?

* * *

 _Florenza's Café - Midtown Manhattan_

"You really should do something about that _trap_ you have out there. It took me fifteen minutes to escape from that thing!"

Brown eyes blinked at the statement; then a slurp was heard as the remains of a strawberry cream soda were sucked up loudly through a straw.

"Nat, it's a landmark, I've told you this." A slight roll of the eyes, as the empty glass was pushed away.

"It's a pot hole that's blocking the front door and it's a trap, Tootie." The victim announced in an annoyed voice.

The two occupants of the back corner booth sat in the lofty, soft-lit café famous for its celebrity clientele. There was a low hum of conversation around them.

"Tell that to city maintenance, they're _not_ going to fill it in."

Tootie Ramsey had been working at the famous Florenza's café for two months as a waitress, or as she had put it – paying her dues in the acting world. All the aspiring actors did it. The café was known for being a favorite eatery for celebrities as well as being a gold mine for finding new talent.

Those who knew someone, who knew someone, who then _knew_ someone high up in the business, usually had been discovered at Florenza's Cafe. The young actress was thrilled when a position opened up and eagerly had business cards printed - _just_ in case Steven Spielberg happened to be in town and needed to get a hold of her.

"They would if they saw this." From under the table, a mud clad leg and running shoe was put on full display.

"And then, I ever so slightly, started to limp my way over to city hall to file papers claiming pain and suffering."

"Nat…" Tootie pushed the offending leg back under the table.

"What? I could've killed myself trying to get in here!"

Tootie sighed. "Nat I've told you this before… Johnny Carson deemed that "hole" a national treasure after he stumbled and fell on Lola Folana. Her entire career was launched after that. Many a producer has tripped and fallen on undiscovered talent because of _that_ hole. You can read all about it on the plaque right beside the hole."

A smirk. "I've read it, the hole that launched a thousand careers… and ruined a thousand pairs of pants, shoes, ripped skirts, broken bones, torn… "

"Okay, ok! I get your point." The young thespian decided a change of subject was in order and studied her booth companion. "How's it going in the newspaper business, Nat?"

The young reporter was nursing a root beer and glanced at her longtime friend. "Slow. I'm just itching for a juicy story, you know, something I can _really_ sink my teeth into."

Tootie chuckled. "Yeah, but will they let you report on anything other than little old ladies?"

Natalie looked up, startled by the remark. "What's wrong with little old lady stories? They're endearing, heartwarming."

"They're safe, you mean." Tootie pinned her companion with a knowing look. "I mean, it was nice to know Mrs. Lindner finally found her cat after it ran away 5 years ago."

Natalie sighed in resignation. "It's the only subject they'll let me report on. I'm just a junior reporter." She picked at her napkin.

Tootie offered a soft smile. "Yeah but for the _New York Times_." She reached across the table and gave Natalie a pat on the arm. "How many people can say that coming right out of college?"

It was true. Natalie Green had been courted by the _Times_ since the beginning of her senior year at Langley. After graduation, she was all too eager to move back to the city and begin her career, if only as a junior (cub) reporter. All she needed was a break – the one story that would catapult her to senior status – a story that would prove her to be the greatest and youngest, top reporter the paper had ever seen!

"You're daydreaming again," Tootie smirked as she looked around the café. "Huh… how do you like that? The one day I'm off and so far _no_ celebrities, and where's Jo? She should be here by now."

Natalie smirked back at the aspiring actress; then checked her incoming text messages. "I texted her ten minutes ago, no reply. She's stuck in traffic, no doubt. _This_ is why I take the subway."

Tootie slumped back in the booth and gave Natalie an inquiring look. "I thought you took the subway because, and I quote: _There's no way I'm walking ten blocks in the blistering sun only to look like a boiled clam. And, besides, the subway has air conditioning._ "

"That's boiled _lobster_. I'd look like a boiled lobster," Natalie corrected. "At least get your crustaceans correct if you're going to quote me, Tootie." She took a long sip of root beer.

A beat passed between them. "I thought clams were mollusks." A dark eyebrow rose in question.

Natalie waved a hand, "Mollusks, crustaceans, what's the difference? I don't want to look like either one of them."

The engine was cut as the biker rolled the Harley into the back alley of Florenza's. She was thankful the owner had let her park her bike in the secure area. Removing the heavy helmet the cool air from the metal street vents was welcomed on glistening skin. A ponytail was freed as she combed through it with deft fingers. Jo peeled off her leather jacket and headed inside the café.

 _So much for being on time_ …

* * *

Wainscoting seemed to be the theme of _Warner Mansion_ – as the _press_ called it. Every room in the place was wrapped in the decorative wooden panels.

The scenic mansion sat atop the Crestview Hills. Crestview was home to the famous Crestview Golf Club. It was exclusive, of course, and very famous for its rich and celebrity clientele.

The mansion was first built in 1892, by a small construction company owned by George Andrew Warner – great grandfather to David and Russell. The front entrance was elaborate, open and quite breath taking, with a full spiral staircase. The spindle and rail decor had been hand carved. The walls were decorated with a cast of old family pictures and valuable paintings, especially in the main _Grande_ _Room_.

The halls were a bright color of eggshell white, as chandeliers adorned almost every room in the place. George and Claire Warner, who were both accomplished artists in their own right, had collected every piece of art in the house. Each sculpture and painting was polished and cleaned weekly by a specifically trained staff.

The floors were marble: grey with a touch of brown and white swirled in. They were cold and hard, although the halls themselves were quite hollow.

The clicking of elegant shoes echoed in the south hall as Blair made her way to the ' _Mast,_ ' as her father called his study… his sanctuary.

She approached the door, but waited for a moment. She listened before tapping it lightly. "Daddy?"

Blair heard a muffled, " _One second…"_ before, "Come in princess…"

David Warner sat perched on the side of his desk. He motioned for Blair to have a seat across from him as he continued with what seemed to be a _very_ important phone call.

She slowly entered and took in the paneled office. It always made her feel regal when she entered into the _Mast_ … ever since she was a little girl. It smelled like old varnish, and the window behind the desk was in the perfect spot to view the ocean off in the distance.

Her father's golf clubs sat in one corner; as a large fireplace and a built in shelf of law and reading books was on the adjacent wall. Various paintings and art pieces rounded out the rest of the room.

There was a large boat in a bottle on David's desk that he had been working on with his brother. They were each taking turns at building it, piece by _meticulous_ piece inside the glass. It had been _their_ hobby – that and sailing their real life versions off the coast on the weekends.

Blair took a seat and crossed her legs as she waited for her father to finish. She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a breath.

David turned off his phone and regarded his daughter. "So, Princess, how'd everything go?"

"As well as can be expected." _Really, Daddy? What was more important than paying respects to your own brother?_

David saw her look of slight irritation. He moved to the front of the desk and bent over to meet Blair's eyes. "Now… don't look at me like that."

Blair feigned indifference. "Like what?"

"Like you have a few choice words for me." He paused. "Princess, you know good and well uncle Russell wouldn't want me anywhere else but taking care of business. I was at the funeral and the reception." He pointed out. "I got a call right before the ashes ceremony. It couldn't be helped."

Blair reluctantly knew that was true. She gave him a dismissive shrug of her shoulders. "I didn't say anything."

"No. But your body language is telling me you're not too happy I wasn't at the ceremony." David sat up, resting his hands on his knees. "Look Prin— "

"Daddy I have other things on my mind more pressing than your lack of empathy!" Blair blurted out then abruptly got up from the chair.

"Lack of emp... _what?"_ David was slightly taken aback.

Blair was keenly aware of her father watching in confusion as she strode over to the window and peered out; not really focusing on anything in particular.

He came up behind her and rested his hands, hesitantly at first, on top of her shoulders to offer comfort and waited.

Blair sighed after a few moments. "Do you think I can do this?" she said in a small voice.

David patted her shoulders in understanding. "Princess, you can do anything you put your mind to. You're a Warner," He smiled, his voice low and soothing.

Blair shook her head. "They're all waiting for me to fail, daddy." She swallowed against the wave of worry that suddenly rose in her throat.

"Oh, I seriously doubt that."

David gently turned Blair around to face him. Her forehead was furrowed in frustration. He lifted a thumb to smooth out her brow. "Look, tomorrow morning I'm going to formally introduce you to the executive board." He flashed a quick smile.

Blair answered with a hesitant grin. Her stomach felt nervous, but she pushed it down. "As their newly appointed President… me, David Warner's daughter." She said flatly.

Blair moved out of her father's grasp and walked over to the bookshelf, fingering the leatherback law books absentmindedly. She sighed.

David watched her for a beat. "Well, who else would you have me entrust my billion dollar company to… a complete stranger?"

He watched her for a minute then softened his tone. "Sweetheart, you've earned this position. It's in your blood."

Blair looked skeptically at her father. "So the fact that I'm probably young enough to be most of executive board member's daughter _and_ a woman, that doesn't cast any doubt about my…"

"Oh, now, no, no, Princess. Don't go selling yourself short here," David interrupted. "You are _more_ than qualified and quite a few of them have told me they were especially impressed with how you handled the Meyer account."

David Warner studied his daughter then added pointedly. "Princess, you've _earned_ this."

Blair repressed a sardonic smirk. The Meyer account _had_ been one of her better accomplishments, true. She'd had plenty of small cases since her various internships; both during and after law school. But the Meyer account involved multimillion-dollar business buyouts and crafty negotiations. She'd worked very hard on each case with the senior counselors within each company. They'd recognized her zeal, her strength in the art of law.

The ability to charm and sway others with her arguments had become her biggest asset.

Blair had earned a reputation for being quite a _shark_ at Warner Textiles; especially when it came to negotiating. The past five years had seen her climb from senior legal analyst to vice operations executive as a result of her hard work. The executive board had just recently considered her to replace her late uncle Russell as president, after he had suffered his sudden fatal heart attack.

It didn't sit well with his son, Robert, who was presently vice president of global operations. But Blair was a year older and her father _was_ the acting CEO… and probably the chief persuader in voting for the next president of Warner Textiles Corporation.

Blair cleared her voice and looked at her father adamant. "It's a lot of responsibility." She reiterated.

"Of course it is and you can handle it. Your uncle and I had no doubts about your ability. Look, Princess, tomorrow morning we'll have breakfast at the café and then we'll walk into Warner Textiles like we own the place." David smiled, his attempt to joke a bit lost on Blair, but still…

Blair slowly padded her way toward the door. She swallowed, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach and spared her father a glance. He'd taken off his suit jacket; his white buttoned down dress shirt still crisply laundered. His necktie hung loose around his neck. He looked tired. His eyes were red around the edges.

It had been a _long_ day.

"Fine," Blair said resolutely.

She _hated_ the feeling of uncertainty. She _was_ a Warner and Warner's didn't feel particular _things_ , especially uncertainty… and definitely not failure. Blair shook her head to clear it. No this wasn't any different…this was business. She knew how to _do_ business. It _was_ in her blood after all.

David smiled thankfully at Blair before making his way over to her. He bent down and pecked her cheek; then moved back over to his desk.

Blair smiled in return. His cologne still lingered. It was her favorite. She then turned and grabbed the doorknob and cracked open the door, its hinges slightly squeaking as she did.

She hesitated a bit before regarding her father. "One more thing, Daddy."

"Yes princess?" David froze looking up, his eyebrows raised in question. He had moved to grab a cigar from the humidor and was in the process of lighting it.

"Starting tomorrow? Don't call me _Princess_."

She had let the door close quietly. The sound of her pumps clicking on the marble floor grew fainter as she moved down the hall.

David let the cigar dangle from his lips and then grabbed it; placing it back in the humidor. He cracked a smile and shook his head in amusement as he moved to the small bar behind his desk. He poured a scotch – _neat_ \- then settled in to his chair.

Glancing at the picture on his desk of Russell and him, he smiled. They'd been sailing and each sported a deep tan. The picture was twenty years old. They looked young and dashing. David chuckled to himself.

With tears welling in his eyes, he saluted his brother. "Here's to you, Russ." He held the glass to his lips and smiled one last time before downing the liquid in one swift gulp.

He winced as the scotch made its way down his throat, then leaned back in his chair, peering out the window. A few clouds had settled in, but the sun was still high. Its rays streamed lines into the study, painting the room an orange-ish pink.

 _You go get 'em princess…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Preamble Binds**

* * *

Dinner had been a somber event. Blair had excused herself and headed to the carport to collect her car - a convertible, 1976 vintage Porsche. It was candy apple red, tan leather interior with gold trim.

She had entrusted the keys to Admuir every Tuesday to take it to his shop and give it a thorough and detailed polishing and cleaning.

While driving it around town, she loved the attention it brought her. Many onlookers not only admired the car, but also the _beauty_ driving it.

Blair smiled to herself as she peeled out of the mansion's cobblestone driveway and onto the road that led to the main highway. The motor was smooth and hummed and she closed her eyes for a second, absorbing the feel of it.

She had put the top down - the wind whipping through her hair. She lifted the blonde tresses from her neck and let the air cool her damp skin; letting the strands fall through her fingers, tickling her palms, before shaking out her mane.

Blair put her sunglasses on, and then drove at a steady pace through the country side toward the city. The stress of the day had caught up with her and she just wanted to escape for a while.

Nearing the city she stopped at a red light; taking the opprotunity to check her text messages. "Nothing…nothing…ah…" She'd found the one she was looking for and smiled, then sent a brief reply back.

She checked her reflection in the rear view mirror and fluffed her now slightly disheveled hair. A fresh coat of lipstick was applied as she turned on the radio; the channel already set to her favorite contemporary jazz station. She hummed along to the familiar tune as she felt herself unwind, and relaxed as the car glided through the streets.

There were still quite a few cars about, but traffic had lightened up considerably since rush hour.

A little while later Blair entered Manhattan and headed to the Upper East Side…

* * *

"You want to tell us how the heck you can survive in that thing and in _this_ heat, Jo?" Natalie pointed to the leather bomber jacket carefully folded on the seat beside Jo.

Dinner had gone well enough for the longtime friends. They'd covered various subjects, including Jo's job, Tootie's latest show and Natalie's lagging career.

Natalie was working on a stalk of celery. She bit off a piece and gagged a little. She hated it, but it was part of her new _Mediterranean_ diet. All through dinner her will power had been tested by sitting in the Italian café with dinner companions who had insisted on ordering two of its best dishes, and now dessert.

Natalie had ordered the soup of the day and salad.

"Jo?"

"Yeah, sorry." The brunette tapped her phone screen then set it on the table. "…you know, it keeps the sun off my back." She stated simply then started to dig into her chocolate fudge sundae cake.

Tootie's brow creased. "You could die from heat exhaustion." She eyed the brunette as she devoured her dessert.

Jo hummed at the taste then swallowed. "Guy's, it's not as bad as it looks." Picking up the jacket, she opened it. "It's perforated…see?" She turned it around.

Natalie bit off a stalk. Sure enough… the little tiny holes were visible only when close up. "Huh, would you look at that!" she crunched.

"Yeah… well just something I picked up in LA when I first got there." Jo refolded the jacket and placed it beside her. "Some little shop that sells kind of weird but useful stuff. It's hot most of the time and I got tired of getting sunburn on my back." She explained. "Besides, I like the way I look in it. It's loose and comfortable. The fact that it's perforated helps circulate the air. It's great for when I'm sitting still in traffic."

Natalie and Tootie both nodded their heads in understanding.

Jo's phone pinged again and two sets of eyes watched as the brunette picked up the device and examined the screen.

Jo tapped it a few times. "It's work." She gave them an apologetic look. "They keep badgering me for feedback." She let out a nervous chuckle.

Tootie smirked. "Don't tell me they have you working on weekends now. Jo you just moved back!"

Jo shook her head. "It's just my boss. I'm not going in until Monday." She eased back down in the booth seat and lopped off another piece of oozing chocolaty cake, then moved it around in the melted ice cream before eating it.

Natalie groaned at the sight then sighed. "Before I forget Jo, we're doing this every third week of the month…usually Friday… six pm."

By _this_ she meant all of them getting together and catching up. Jo swallowed then took a sip of ginger ale. "What if I can't make it?"

"Well _if_ you have a good excuse, we'll let you slide. But now that you're back in the city, I'm sure you'll be prompt." Tootie grinned at the brunette.

Jo considered that for a moment. "You know… I can understand today, but what about _Blair_ dropping off the face of the earth?" She wiped her mouth with a napkin and gazed expectantly at her two dinner companions.

"She's been busy being a Warner remember?" Natalie said offhandedly. "Besides I've talked to her. We had lunch last week."

Jo lifted a brow. "Really?"

"Yeah." Tootie answered. She noticed the questioning look on Jo's face. "We've all at least heard from her, right?" She looked around the table.

Jo put her fork down. "Not really…" She cleared her voice.

Natalie smirked. "Well, you're the only one that's been out of the loop, Jo. You can't really blame Blair for not being able to call you up for a quick lunch." She pointed out.

Jo shook her head. "No. It's not that…" She paused. "I haven't talked to Blair in almost a year."

Two sets of eyebrows shot up in question, then furrowed in confusion.

"You're kidding right?" Tootie looked skeptically at her longtime friend.

"No. I'm not kidding." Jo stated a little defensively. "Anybody want to tell me why?" She felt agitated.

"Well, for starters, you _have_ been a little hard to get in touch with, Jo." Natalie informed. She pinned Jo with a look. "Color me shocked when you finally reached out and touched someone last week to inform me you were moving back to the city."

Jo made a resigned face. It was a fair remark. "Well… I'm just glad JTI finally opened an office here," She explained. "And yeah, I jumped at the chance when they offered a few of us to move to the new office. They said I would be a good fit. Besides, I missed you guys, my family… and, yeah, even Blair," she added with a little laugh, then went back to eating the last of her cake.

"Did she at least _try_ to call you?" Tootie asked.

Jo looked up at the question. "Not that I know of. The last time I talked to Blair was maybe… nine months ago."

Tootie and Natalie exchanged puzzled looks.

"Huh. Last week when we met for lunch she said she'd talked to you recently." Natalie offered. "I asked her how you were doing and she said _fine_ then changed the subject. I figured you two had one of your arguments and dropped it," she shrugged.

Jo's eyes narrowed. "Well she lied. Every time I've called her it's gone straight to voicemail." She lowered her eyes to her plate moving the melted ice cream around with her fork. "She must have fifty messages from me," Jo said. "I gave up about two months ago. I figured I'd see you guys anyway when I got back and got all settled in." She flashed a weak smile.

"I'm glad you did Jo. We've all been busy with our career's but we really missed you." Natalie said.

Tootie nodded her head in agreement and gave Jo a warm smile. "I'm sure Blair will be glad to see you too," she added.

Jo lifted a skeptical brow. "Time will tell," she scoffed. "Besides… she's probably concentrating on more important things right now." No doubt bossing people around… her favorite sport, she mused.

"Hmm…" Tootie tapped her lip gently with her fork in thought. "I wonder what's going on at Warner Textiles now that her uncle's deceased."

"They're probably restructuring." Jo said, drinking the last of her ginger ale, crunching the ice.

"You know what Nat?" Tootie's eyes widened with realization. "This might be the break you've been looking for; a chance to do a story on Blair! I bet things are probably a little shook up over there."

Natalie considered that for a moment only to feel a little bemused. "I wish… Harris is a hard sell. He's never considered me for covering anything of substance, Toot."

"Yeah, but you _know_ Blair personally," Tootie reiterated. "Sell that to him and see if he'll bite."

Natalie chuckled. Tootie was notoriously optimistic. "What… tell him I can get an inside scoop because I know the niece? Yeah right. Tootie he already has reporters assigned to the corporate sector. Besides, he keeps reminding me I'm a _cub_ reporter."

Natalie bit the last of her celery and made a face… it was more bitter than the last bite. She threw the remaining stalk on her plate, then took a long drink of ice water.

"Oh well… I mean…" Tootie shrugged indifferently. "You could at least _mention_ that you know Blair and could get him some inside scoop. It'll be good for your self esteem to stand up to the guy." She said trying to sound upbeat.

Natalie set her glass down and gave Tootie an incredulous look. "What. Are you my life coach now? My boss turns a deaf ear to my every suggestion!"

Tootie stared, then slowly blinked annoyed eyes at the cub reporter. "It was just a suggestion!"

"Yeah, well your suggestions could get me fired!" Natalie moved to pick up another piece of celery then thought better of it. "Inside scoop…" she muttered, frustrated.

Tootie opened her mouth then snapped it closed. "That's it! You're going off this diet!" She waved an angry finger at Natalie.

"What? Why?!" Natalie shouted.

"Because it makes no sense and you're in a bad mood all the time!" Tootie crossed her arms with a huff. "I don't even know why you're on the damn thing anyway, you look just fine." She flicked her eyes over Natalie before rolling them.

The reporter sighed heavily. "I've told you this before Tootie, it's for stamina! I have to be able to go out into the field at a moment's notice!"

"And eating twigs and leaves gives you stamina?!" Tootie snapped.

"No, it gives me energy! I get gassy when I eat carbs, you know this!" Natalie stated, leaning toward Tootie to make her point.

Jo chuckled, watching them. She had missed her friends back and forth banter. Her phone sounded again and she glanced at the screen, deciding to answer it this time.

"Polniaczek…uh huh …ok… when?… sure…ok, no problem." She ended the call. "Guy's I'm sorry, I really have to go and check this out." Jo gave them a remorseful look.

"I thought you said you didn't have to go in until Monday?" Tootie questioned.

Jo reached under the table and picked up her helmet from the floor. "I just need to look over a few things their sending to me. My laptop's at the apartment," she supplied. "I have a program I'm working on and I need additional information, you know… boring stuff." She waved it off then got up from the booth.

"Slave driver." Natalie muttered.

Jo cracked a grin. "More like trying to meet a deadline unfortunately." She pulled out several bills from her jean's pocket and threw them on the table.

"Don't forget we're doing lunch next week, Jo." Tootie reminded. "I'm showing you where my next play is taking place."

Jo shifted her helmet to her other arm, grabbing her check from the table. "I wouldn't miss it." She smiled at her friend.

"Be careful going out." Natalie lifted her leg, showing off the now dried mud her shoe was encased in.

Jo gazed at the spectacle. She tried to suppress a grin. "Not a problem. I came in through the back remember?"

"Lucky you," Natalie made a face at Tootie who rolled her eyes back at her best friend.

"See you guys later." Jo waved, then went to the cashier to pay her bill. She made her way through the kitchen toward the back door and nodded a "thanks" to the owner, _Geno_ , then exited the café.

Unlocking her bike and starting the motor she checked her phone, noticing a new voicemail.

She tapped the number and listened. Smirking, Jo returned the call. "Hey…yeah…Tootie and Natalie…no they don't suspect anything. I covered. Don't worry about it…ok… I'll be there in a few…" Stuffing the phone in her jean pocket, Jo revved the motor then secured her helmet on her head.

She released the break and backed the bike up, looking behind her as she cleared the alley and threw the gear in to drive. She swung out into the street, noting the lighter traffic. _Good_. The sun was just starting to graze the tops of the buildings, casting streams of rays onto the street. It was getting cooler, though not much more than a very warm draft – Jo settled into a steady pace…

* * *

"I can't believe no celebrities tonight." Natalie looked around the café, her eyes stopping, before squinting at a man in the far corner of the place. "Travolta?"

Tootie turned to see what her friend was looking at. She smirked. "Impersonator."

Natalie raised a brow. "Really? He's good…looks just like him," she mused.

Tootie shook her head, chuckling. "Yeah, when he was in Pulp Fiction Nat."

"Oh," Natalie laughed a bit embarrassed. "Well, I'm going over to Mom's after I leave here. She's having problems with the cable again."

"Tell her to get satellite. It'll change her life," Tootie stated. They had both paid their separate bills by credit card earlier; their dishes had been cleared.

"She hates satellite more than cable…" Natalie responded.

Tootie rolled her eyes as they moved to exit the booth. Her foot hit something on the floor under the table, and she bent to pick it up. "Oh, no…"

Natalie looked as her friend lifted the offending object. _Oh man_. "Jo forgot her jacket."

"I'll call her. Maybe we can swing by her place and drop it off." Tootie retrieved her phone from her purse and tapped in Jo's number. A faint ringing noise sounded.

Natalie paused. "Did you hear that?" She asked.

"Yeah," Tootie ended the call then tried the number again; this time they both listened closely.

"It's coming from Jo's jacket. Tootie, she left her phone!" Natalie stated the obvious.

Tootie turned the jacket around as it rang - finally finding the pocket that contained Jo's phone. It was in one of the inside breast pockets. She pulled it out. "I thought Jo's phone was bigger than this." She turned the device around in her hand.

Natalie furrowed her brow. "Huh. I could've sworn she had her phone with her when she left." She eyed the device. "Let me see that."

Tootie gave the phone over to Natalie. It was smaller than the one Jo was using earlier. "She probably has two phones… one for work." Natalie examined it a little closer. She tapped the screen noting it was locked. She gave it back to Tootie who put it back in the jacket pocket.

"She hasn't called us, so I doubt she realizes she left it," Tootie said.

Natalie nodded, then made a decision. "Let's tell Geno we're bringing it to her in case she calls the café."

Tootie agreed. "Good idea."

Tootie and Natalie exited the café and hailed a cab. They gave the cabby the address and headed for Jo's apartment.

* * *

" _…this is good."_ A lazy hand lifted out of the bubbly hot water, then gentle fingertips slowly smoothed over the soft surface of a long elegant neck; drifting down to rest on a collarbone. "Mmm…"

Half lidded eyes drifted closed as the warm water of the Jacuzzi tub hummed. A low current flowed around the body it contained. Blair had meticulously pinned her hair up, then wrapped it in a silk scarf, careful not to get one strand wet. She stretched her legs out and sighed. The day had taken its toll and now it was time to relax and unwind before tomorrow's activities.

 _Tomorrow_.

She didn't want to think about it. Not now…not tonight.

Blair reached for her phone that sat on the edge of the tub, thank goodness it was waterproof, and checked the time. _Better get dressed_. She sat up feeling the cool air wafting around the bathroom. The air conditioner was working overtime to keep the top floor cool. She shivered as her nipples tightened at the change in temperature.

She toweled off then moved down the hall to her bedroom, nakedly padding her way over to the large walk in closet. She decided on a silky pink ensemble – camisole top and long silk evening pants. She slipped on dainty, yet comfortable, one inch heeled slippers.

Blair combed through then fluffed her hair. She put a light amount of makeup on her eyes and cheeks before applying her favorite brand of perfume behind her ears. She then blotted on shimmering lipstick and glanced at herself in the mirror. _Not bad_ …

She made her way down the hall which led to an expansive and elegant living room. The large penthouse afforded her a panoramic view of the city via floor to ceiling windows - from the spacious kitchen to the living room.

She paused for a moment enjoying the view. The young executive loved the scenic expanse of being _above_ the city. She felt a quiet sense of peace… it was almost therapeutic. There was a sliding glass door that led out to the balcony where she would sometimes sit for hours, just reading or meditating. The noise and pollution of the city were a non-factor that high up.

She went to the kitchen and retrieved two long stemmed wine glasses, then moved to the living room and set them on the coffee table beside the bucket of chilled wine she had arranged earlier.

The intercom sounded and Blair made her way, rather eagerly, to the door to answer it.

"On."

The small screen on the device showed the face of a slightly graying concierge who was in the lobby.

"Yes, William?"

" _Miss Warner, your guest has arrived_."

"Thank you William. Please show her up."

" _As you wish Miss Warner_."

"End." Blair cleared her voice. A wave of excitement washed over her. She tossed her hair into place one last time and smoothed her outfit with nervous hands.

A few moments later, a light tap sounded on the door. Blair calmed herself, taking a deep breath to steady her rapid heartbeat, then casually opened the door.

She was greeted by a dubious smile. Appreciative eyes flicked over Blair's figure. "Well aren't you a sight."

The brunette woman on the other side drawled the words with a wide toothy smile. She noticed Blair's creeping blush and chuckled as she caught the sharp intake of breath from the blonde executive.

Blair smiled as she gestured for her guest to enter the penthouse. "How have you been?" she asked, relieved she was able to keep her nerves from affecting her voice. She led the woman to the couch.

"Well… and you?" A dark eyebrow lifted in question as Blair sat on the opposite side of the couch.

"I… I'm fine," Blair swallowed thickly. She rubbed her hands together in her lap, glancing at the woman and noting she was sitting casually. A leg crossed at the knee with one arm slung across the back of the couch… it was almost predatory.

 _She looks… really good_ … Blair let her mind drift for a moment. The woman wore a dark gray pantsuit with just enough cleavage for…

"Blair."

Brown eyes snapped to those of her guest. "Hmm?"

A chuckle was followed by a knowing smile. "I'm not going to bite." The woman purred.

Blair noticed she was patting the couch cushion, indicating the rather large space between them. She let out a nervous breath. "Wine?"

The woman took in a breath, disappointed. "Maybe half a glass." She said as she watched Blair abruptly stand to grab the chilled wine bottle from the ice bucket.

"You smell incredible," she added, partly hoping to diffuse some of the tension, but meaning every bit of it.

Blair smiled at the compliment as she licked dry lips and uncorked the bottle. She poured two glasses of the vintage libation. She could feel the woman's eyes on her and tried to ignore the fact that her hands were shaking. _Oh God…get a grip!_

She closed her eyes momentarily before turning around. "Here you are," she smiled.

She handed the woman her glass, then decided to walk over to the windows looking out over the city. The sun was starting to set just a little.

Before she could take a sip, Blair felt warm fingers slowly pry the glass from her hand. She almost protested, but thought the better of it as she looked back and gazed into knowing eyes.

She let it happen…all of it. The arms that encircled her waist from behind, the breath she felt on her neck as the woman spoke.

"You're running from me."

Her voice was low and throaty, and Blair could feel herself melt at the sensations. She allowed her head to recline back onto the strong shoulder she found there. Her companion was at least an inch taller than she was. It was a good fit. They stood like that for a moment, facing the city, taking in the view… and each other.

"I'm just… it's been a long day and… _oh_ ," Strong fingers massaged stiff shoulders, digging in then smoothing the muscles with a rhythmic pace. Blair bit her lip to keep from crying out at the wonderful feeling of tension leaving her body.

"You are really good at that." Her voice was tight, and she let out a sigh. Her eyes were half lidded as she let the ministrations go on for as long as her companion wanted them to.

The woman smiled. "Why thank you. I aim to please." She paused in thought. "I heard about your uncle. I'm really sor…"

"Shhh…" Blair turned slightly and placed a finger on soft lips. "I, I really don't want to talk about that right now… if that's ok with you." Blair lifted her eyes to meet the woman's in silent demand.

The woman nodded and gave Blair a crooked smile. "No problem."

She continued to massage Blair's shoulders noting the soft sounds of appreciation from the beautiful woman. She paused for a moment, to make up her mind, and then slid her arms around a slim waist; resting her hands gently on Blair's stomach.

Blair let herself be held, allowing the warmth of the woman behind her to envelope her. Her senses were reeling with awareness as fingertips smoothed tiny circles on her stomach. It felt good. She sighed throatily, cracking a lazy smile.

Soft lips then found their way to an earlobe, gently sucking on the flesh there.

" _Oh_ …" The lips moved further down, finding the expanse of a nicely toned neck. A warm hand threaded through Blair's hair, gently moving it to the side, as a few nips caused the blonde to preen her neck to allow more access.

"Oh… that's... _Ohh…"_ She clamped down on a rapidly approaching moan. Lips and tongue softly licked and slowly sucked up and down the soft expanse of her neck. She let out a guttural cry. "Oh God..."

The woman turned Blair in her arms. Her eyes were focused on the lips in front of her. She moved slowly, watching the blonde woman as her breathing became more labored. The brunette closed her eyes… their lips a hair's breath away from connecting.

Then she felt hands on her chest gently pushing...

"I…I…" Blair turned her head not allowing the contact. "I'm sorry…"

The brunette let out a sound of frustration. She tried not to let it show as brown eyes flashed her a look of apology almost immediately.

"Hey it's ok." The woman cleared her throat as she watched Blair reach over to retrieve her glass of wine from the table and take a big gulp.

Blair swallowed then regarded the woman in front of her. Bright eyes, and a long dark mane of hair that framed a cute face. She liked her… a lot. She caught the disappointed look on the woman's face before she plastered on a smile.

Blair put her glass down and extended a hand to her companion.

The woman looked at the offered hand, then up into eyes that held a look of mischief mixed with desire. Her eyes twinkled back at the blonde, as their fingertips lightly joined each other.

Blair turned as she pulled the woman with her. They made their way down the hall; and she put a slight sway in her hips as she sensed eyes on her backside. Once they arrived at the bedroom door, Blair turned and faced the brunette. She had her full attention. "I just want you to hold me for a while."

It was stated with such finality that _all_ the poor woman could do was nod in acceptance as she was pulled into the dark room.


	4. Chapter 4

The elevator jerked as its only occupant leaned against the back of the steel box. Lidded eyes watched with disinterest as the numbers ticked by. 8... 9... 10…

The loud pinging noise caused tired eyes to snap wide as Jo rubbed her face with the palm of her hand, forcing herself fully awake. Booted feet exited the elevator and made their way down a mostly dark hallway.

There was a sliver of light coming from under the door at the end of the hall. Jo made her way there, and tapped on the door lightly. She didn't bother waiting for a reply and entered the room.

Three people sat at a small conference table, two of them nodding their hello's. Jo nodded back and took a seat opposite them.

"Polniaczek…nice of you to join us." Eric Nelson, who sat at the head of the table, handed Jo a folder, not bothering to look up from the notes he was scribbling on a notepad.

"You know Summers and Mendoza?"

Jo put her elbows on the table. "Yeah, good to see you guys." She looked at Eric. "You mind telling me why I had to leave dinner early?"

Eric looked up at Jo. "Remember that manufacturing warehouse that burned down in Taiwan?"

Jo thought for a minute, not quite remembering. "Barely. Wasn't Hodges' team working on that?"

"Yep. It seems there have been two more warehouses burned down." Eric stated, as he started scribbling again.

"Really? Where?" Jo opened her folder, scanning the top page.

"Tokyo. No casualties."

Jo blindly flipped through a few pages. "What's the trace?"

Eric blew out a breath. "We've ruled out insider trading, money laundering…"

Jo bit her lip in thought for a moment. It was becoming fairly apparent to her at this point. "Can we just cut to the chase? We're going to Tokyo, right?"

"Not exactly. The warehouses were owned by Warner Textiles." He looked directly into green eyes. "This just became a federal issue." He stated firmly. "I'll fill you all in when David Warner gets here. He's on his way. He's agreed to give us full cooperation."

Jo's eyebrows shot to the top of her forehead. "Wait a minute. Does he…?"

"He knows you work for us." Eric reassured her. "He was briefed two days ago and he's already gone through protocol."

Jo let out a relieved breath. "So he's been scrubbed?"

"Completely. He's clean. We went back 40 years," he added.

"He's compliant and agreed to be an informant," Mendoza supplied.

Jo nodded, then casually put one hand over the other on the table. "How serious is this?"

"Level 4," Eric said simply.

 _Damn_ …

Eric finished the last of his notes then looked at each agent, gaining their attention. "Ok. Now that we're all here I want to go over the profiles before Warner gets here. Turn to page six and we'll begin there."

It would be an hour before they finished reviewing each of the profiles. Each agent would be fully briefed on the employee's, executive board and lower to upper level managers of Warner Textiles.

From the doorway, a voice was cleared and all four agents turned their attention toward the man standing there.

Eric got up from his chair and headed over, extending his hand. "Mr. Warner, glad you could join us. I trust you had no problems with security?"

David Warner returned the handshake. "Not at all." He followed Eric over to the table. "Good to see you again, Agent Nelson."

Eric waved over at the table. "This is Agent Summers and Agent Mendoza." He turned his attention to Jo. "And…"

David let a warm smile make its way to his eyes as they fastened on the familiar face. "Jo."

"Ah, well _Agent_ Polniaczek." Eric corrected.

Jo returned the smile with one of her own. "Nice to see you Mr. Warner. I'm sorry it's under these circumstances but…"

David grunted in acquiescence. "It's unfortunate. But it's good to see you too, Jo." He opened his arms for a hug, noticing the slight hesitation from Jo.

She stepped in to the embrace briefly, letting the familiarity ground her for a moment.

"I almost couldn't believe it." David released her then looked at her proudly. "I guess you're all grown up." He chuckled. "And please call me David."

Jo was momentarily charmed, but shifted as she noticed soft chuckles coming from the table. She took a small step back.

"Uh, well, we're going to need to keep it formal right now, sir. I'm sure you understand." Her voice held an apologetic tone. She motioned for David to take a seat.

"Not a problem, I understand." David sat in the chair next to Jo, getting comfortable as he nervously drummed his fingers on the table.

Jo leaned over, keeping her voice soft. "I'm really sorry to hear about your brother. My condolences." She reached over to the middle of the table, grabbed a water bottle and slid it over to him.

"Ah…" David's voice was gruff and he shook off the flash of sadness. "Thank you," he grabbed the bottle then patted her hand.

"Well, now that we've gotten the formalities out of the way, let's get down to business." Eric was adamant about getting the details ironed out. It was all about the logistics at this point and he wanted _no_ mistakes. This was his second year in charge of the IT division. His track record was stellar when it came to corporate dealings.

It was time to get the specifics. "Mr. Warner?"

David took a deep breath before looking around the table. All of the agents had their eyes trained on him.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "I'll get right to it then...One hundred eighty million dollars has gone unaccounted for within my corporation."

There was silence for a moment. "Is this all at once?" Agent Summers asked.

"Over the course of about three months." David directly addressed the agent. "This is ongoing and I want it _stopped_." He said the last part more forcefully than he'd intended.

Eric quickly cut in. "Let me just add we've traced everything associated with operations, Mr. Warner. All of the departments at headquarters. We haven't found any connections of any sort as of now."

Agent Mendoza lifted a brow in question. "I don't understand. Is the money missing?"

"That's just it… the money hasn't been officially earned by the company. So it's not missing, it's being reported as unearned," Eric replied.

Mendoza squinted in confusion at the lead agent. "I'm not following."

"It's been saturated in," Jo supplied.

David nodded. "That's right. I have one hundred eighty million dollars in the tank but there's no documentation or trace of where it came from."

"This is where we come in," Eric looked pensively at the CEO of Warner Textiles. "Do you have any suspicions?"

David adjusted in his seat a little. "I have my hunches, but nothing solid I can point a finger at."

"We need to know everything you know, Mr. Warner," Eric pressed.

"All right," David took a sip of water from his bottle, then screwed the top back on and leveled his eyes at all four agents.

"My brother, God rest his soul, was cut from the same cloth as our father, David Warner Senior."

The table was quiet as all four agents sat unmoving as they listened. David continued. "As you all know, my father was a greedy son of a bitch. It's no secret." He laughed bitterly. "He was a shrewd businessman, I'll give him that. But he was not the most honest man. I'm sure you remember he was indicted for insider trading."

Four heads nodded.

"Not one of our shining moments as Warner's," David joked, a somber expression graced his face.

Eric watched as David reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a white handkerchief. He dabbed his upper lip with it.

"What's your point here Mr. Warner?" Eric asked.

David stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. "I think my brother was tied up in something… something very bad that may have gotten out of control before he had a fatal heart attack."

David watched as the agents looked at each other silently. "I'm saying, I don't know what he was doing or, or..."

"Mr. Warner, we need to know if there is any way we can get into his accounts, his files, anything that can help us find out any new information," Eric looked at David expectantly.

David nodded. "We keep things, certain things, separate from the board. As a bit of precaution."

"Like what?" Agent Summers asked. She began writing notes in her file.

David drew in a breath. "Dealings. Russell had dealings that only he was privy to, as president of the company."

Agent Summers waved her pen. "Doesn't your being the CEO override any of that?"

"No. I manage investors, obtain new contracts, but he saw to the daily operations of the business. Look, it's no secret he was doing some things under the table from time to time, but this…this..."

They couldn't risk obstruction. Eric eyed the CEO. "Mr. Warner, in addition to the unaccounted revenue your company holds, as you know two warehouses your company owns have burned to the ground in Tokyo," he reminded. "We need to find out why, and if it's in any way tied to the money that's been flowing into your company."

The table was quiet. David reached for his water bottle and emptied it; then slumped back into his seat.

Eric shifted his eyes and watched as Jo swiveled back and forth in her chair, deep in thought.

She flipped her folder open and closed a few times; then shut it before shifting her eyes to David. "Someone dropped the ball."

David looked at her. "What?"

"Someone dropped the ball. You were never supposed to find out about the money, Mr. Warner, that's for sure."

David's brow creased as he slowly nodded, realizing Jo's train of thought. "So what are you saying? You're saying this could've been going on for…"

"A lot longer than we know of," Jo explained. She wasn't sure of anything to be honest.

"So what's the plan now?" David asked. He was becoming frustrated and pretty much wanted the whole thing to be over.

"Like Agent Nelson said, we need access to your brother's computer in order to get into his accounts and trace them back as far as we need to," Jo's voice was direct.

David shook his head. "That's impossible. He had an iron clad system set up. I don't even know any of the passwords."

"That's our specialty. We get in, we break code; then we send the information to analytics and get it verified. From there we build a case," Jo told him.

David was growing weary. "You make it sound so simple. We're highly secure. Just how are you going to do that?" he questioned. "And for how long of a period?"

"I'm guessing it could take anywhere from a few weeks to a few months," Eric answered. "As far as security, Mr. Warner, this is where you can help us."

 _Figured as much._ "How?"

"We need to set up as a shell company."

So _just_ like that. Great. David almost cracked a smile in disbelief, except he had heard of this kind of thing happening before. He didn't like it. This was _his_ company not a playground for the secret service.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't understand."

Eric leaned back in his chair. "JTI. Jordan Technical Institute. I'm sure you've heard of them?"

David vaguely recognized the name. "Yes. They're an educational software firm… out west, I believe."

"We just opened a branch here. We're leasing this building." Eric let that information settle in with David, noting the surprised look on his face.

"And you're correct. JTI _is_ an educational software development company. That's our cover. We go in under the guise of extracting information for building capstone projects for college students. During the process, we're able to break into the mainframes and all of the operational accounts and systems."

David was listening. "I see." He was starting to connect the dots, his eyes sliding to look over at Jo a few times. He'd remembered when she first took employment with the educational firm in California.

 _Blair_ had mentioned it to him.

Eric continued. "I've been looking over your corporate structure, Mr. Warner. I can assure you we will be sending in highly trained agents. Both Summers and Mendoza are trained in marketing, financials and logistics. Agent Polniaczek is specialized in all three areas, as well as operations, process analysis and IT international affairs."

"Uh huh," David rubbed his chin.

"We'll be posing as systems analysts, Mr. Warner," Agent Mendoza informed.

Eric nodded his head in agreement. "Exactly. I'll be their contact on the outside and they'll be reporting to me directly. I'm stationed right here at JTI headquarters. For these three Agents – once inside Warner Textiles, each is assigned to the department we feel will best fulfill the capstone and of course infiltrate the systems for our case. Summers will be in marketing and advertising. Mendoza – financials."

"And Jo? I'm sorry… _Agent_ Polniaczek?" David corrected.

Eric didn't blink. "She'll be working with the president." He paused. "Or whomever you've appointed to fill in for Russell. We need to get into your brother's computer, and she's the best at breaking through intricate codes. You could say we'll be getting to the horse's mouth."

"Except the horse is now my daughter," David said grimly. _And she'll be picking up right where her uncle left off… except for the corruption she doesn't know about._

Jo crossed her arms over her chest and cracked a small smile, shaking her head a little. She almost couldn't believe her ears. "Blair?"

David couldn't help it. He felt a swell of pride as a full-blown smile formed. "We're going to officially announce her appointment, Monday. I'll be presenting her to the investors tomorrow." His look turned serious. "I don't want the press involved until we can make a formal statement. I'm sure you can understand."

"We understand," Eric said.

Jo was _still_ trying to process the new information and sported a toothy grin. "Wow! That's… that _is_ quite a surprise."

David's eyes were warm. "She's earned it. I'm proud of her," he said almost shyly.

"I have no doubt about that, Mr. Warner." _Looks like you finally did it Blair. Good for you_.

"I'm surprised she hasn't told you yet. You girls are usually the first she blabs to," David laughed.

The smile fell from Jo's face. "Well, actually, I haven't talked to Blair in a while… a long while." _She's been busy being a Warner, huh. You were right Nat._

David cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Well I'm sure you two will have a lot to catch up on then. Just not until I formally announce her." He paused. "If you don't mind."

Jo sensed his need to protect. "No problem."

Eric allowed their conversation to end before pressing forward with the case. He shuffled the papers in his file, trying to settle them into an orderly fashion before closing it.

"All right then. Let's get down to business." He pointed to David. "On Monday I need you to set up a executive managers meeting. Our team will formally give them a presentation for the JTI capstone project. We will explain what the project is, who it's for and what instruments we'll be utilizing from your company."

David followed along, taking in the new information and leaned forward placing his arms on the table. "So you'll be gathering information in order to make a computer program," he summarized.

"Exactly. An educational computer program." Eric wanted to make it clear. "Keep in mind we will actually be doing that… and of course infiltrating all of your operational systems."

David leaned back in thought. "I see. I'll get the meeting set up with management first thing Monday morning," he agreed.

"We'll need to get through security," Agent Mendoza reminded.

"Not a problem. I can have badges made up for each of you and they'll be available when you arrive in the lobby." David said.

"Alright. Lastly, Mr. Warner," Eric instructed. "No one is to know who we are, not even your daughter. In no way are you to imply that we are anything other than Angela Smith, Norman Denzola and Jo Polniaczek who work for JTI."

"Jo's keeping her real name. Why?" David questioned.

"Because your daughter knows her and knows she works for JTI," Eric reminded him.

 _Of course. True enough._ "Actually, it's a perfect set up." David realized. He turned to look at Jo. "She trusts you."

 _That she does_. If an almost fourteen year friendship taught her anything, it was that good friends are hard to find - much less keep. Jo decided that Blair Warner was indeed worth keeping.

"Don't worry Mr. Warner, I work with good people. And I trust Blair too," she added.

"Oh I'm not worried. I understand your position, Agent Polniaczek," David said with an air of authority. "Just take care of my little girl …and yourself," he amended.

"I will," Jo assured.

David thought for a second. "Uh, I'm just checking here. You guys don't carry guns do you?" he inquired. "Because that'd be hell to get through security. I'm not sure I could even explain that."

"No. We're strictly Information Technology, Mr. Warner," Eric explained. "If we detect any dangerous criminal activity on the premises, we'll call in a special unit or the local police." Eric stood, indicating their part of the meeting was over.

David got the clue and stood up from his chair. "Ah. I see, I see. Good."

Jo joined the them as they moved toward the door. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm a third degree black belt," she said humorously.

"Ha!" David laughed. It helped to relieve some of the stress he was feeling. "Well, I guess that does make me feel a bit better," he winked at Jo. He noticed Agent Nelson's hand had been offered to him. He shook it.

"Mr. Warner, we appreciate your cooperation. We look forward to working with you to get to the bottom of this matter." He released David's hand then gave him an envelope. "That's the information you'll need for the badges. It contains all the basic information for my team."

David took the envelope then looked expectantly at Agent Nelson.

Eric continued. "If you have any questions or concerns you can contact me on the phone I gave you earlier."

David nodded once in understanding.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to finish our meeting." Eric nodded in finality, then turned to leave.

So now it was final… _I guess this is it then_. David blinked a few times. "Yes. Well, thank you." He watched agent Nelson return to the table and sit down, then turned his attention to Jo. "You'll let me know if you find out anything?"

"You'll be one of the first to know," Jo reassured him. She watched as he quickly exited the room, then returned back to the table and took her seat.

Eric tapped his phone a few times. "Alright. First things first. We need to sync our phones. I have numbers here and… " He noticed the confused look on Jo's face as she patted at her jean pockets.

"Problem agent?"

Jo plucked her phone out of her pocket then closed her eyes as the realization hit her. _I bet_ _the other one's at the café. Damn_ … She wouldn't dare let that get out. "No. I, uh, left my _shades_ at the café."

Eric gave her a blank look. "Can we continue agent?"

"Yeah, yeah sure." There was no crime in forgetting your phone, Jo reasoned. At least it was locked, so no harm done, right?

 _Right._

"All right." Eric went back to his phone. The four agents synced their devices, and once finished moved on to the agenda for Monday. Jo sighed and got comfortable.

It was going to be a long evening.

* * *

"Yip, Yip!"

"Ohhh, that's a good girl!" Blair took the small Pomeranian from Meg's arms as she walked through the door.

"She just ate," Meg said as she shut the door and followed Blair into the kitchen.

Blair was busy cooing at the little brown and black dog. "Mommy missed you Gigi, yes I diiiid. Did Gigi miss mommy?"

"Yip! Yip! Yip!" A tailed wagged at the attention. The small dog made satisfied noises as Blair scratched under her chin and down her back.

Meg rolled her eyes. Blair and her dog were two peas in a pod. Both spoiled.

"She's probably thirsty." Meg moved to retrieve Gigi's water bowl from the dish drainer. "She ate all of her dry food but hardly drank anything all day. I'll just…" She trailed off.

Blair looked up to see what had startled Meg. Following her eyes, she'd found two empty wine glasses with lipstick on the rims in the sink. "Oh…"

Meg turned a questioning look toward her stepsister. "Did I interrupt something? Or…"

"No. She left a while ago." She said quickly as she set Gigi down. The little dog lapped her tongue out and whined as she scampered off down the hall.

Blair took the water bowl from Meg and headed down the hall to Gigi's little dog room and poured her special water into it. The small dog lapped at the liquid. Blair left the door cracked open then made her way back to the kitchen.

Meg was sitting at the small island in the kitchen. "Sooo… how did everything go with…" She let it hang there.

"Fine." Blair wasn't in the mood. "She just came by to wish me luck on Monday." _Simple. No problem. Drop it._

"I see."

Blair recognized the tone. "Do you, Meg?" She knew she sounded annoyed.

"Blair, I'm on your side, remember? Look, I'm glad that you're…" Meg made a grand gesture with her arms, "…finding yourself." She sighed, seeing the guarded look on Blair's face. "I just want you to be happy."

"I _am_ happy," Blair countered. She moved past Meg to sit on the couch. Pulling her legs under her, she grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest while resting her head on the back of the couch.

Meg nodded in understanding. "Good. Well…"

She moved to join Blair, sitting close. She sighed, then allowed a few moments of silence to exist. There was nothing more to say on the matter. It was obvious Blair was done with it.

Perhaps a change in subject. "Joyce is feeling better."

Blair accepted it. "Oh good, good..." She picked at the fringe on the pillow as another lull settled between them.

"She said she wants you to see her privately on Sunday at the party." Meg broke the silence again.

"Oh?" Blair gave Meg a curious look.

Meg rested her head on the back of the couch as she rolled it to meet Blair's eyes. "I have no idea why, so don't try and pry anything out of me. I'm only her caretaker," she warned, a slight smile inching its way to her lips.

Blair tilted her head. "It's probably some advice…" She put on her best 'Nana' voice _"…don't let those people boss you around young lady!"_

Meg let out a burst of laughter and followed suit. _"Stand your ground, young lady, and don't show too much cleavage!"_

Blair guffawed. _"Too much make-up is not becoming of a corporate president!"_

 _"Respect yourself! You're not one of those hussies who got to where they are by showing too much leg."_

Their faces were red with laughter as they tried to catch their breath. "Oh God! She'd skewer us if she knew how we talk about her!" Meg coughed, fanning herself.

They finally let the moment settle down. Blair laid her head on Meg's shoulder and they stayed like that for a minute, enjoying the view. The lights of the city painted an endless ocean of twinkling diamonds.

Meg grabbed a small strand of Blair's hair; wrapping it slowly around her finger. "Yeah, well," she said softly.

"Well…" Blair repeated.

The air conditioner had just clicked off. The temperature finally reaching its goal as the outside heat was just starting to cool as the evening wore on.

"How are you _really,_ Blair?"

It was asked suddenly, almost startling Blair. She didn't answer right away. She breathed out a nervous breath, closing her eyes.

"Numb… a little. I don't know. Just... I'm nervous and excited and… " She swallowed, glancing at Meg, who waited, smiling gently in return.

Blair flashed a smile, then it faltered. "Scared as hell."

Meg could hear the tremble in her voice. She unwound the strand she was working on and faced Blair. "God doesn't put us through more than we can handle. You'll do just fine."

She put as much encouragement as she could in her tone. She watched as Blair nodded, not bothering to answer. She accepted that and leaned back on the couch. They sat there motionless, enjoying the quiet before the storm. It had been one heck of a week, and things were changing so fast. One just needed a second to slow things down to focus, to think and regroup.

Blair turned to look at Meg, a sly smile working its way to her lips. "You know… I like you better as a nurse," she teased.

"What?" Came the quiet reply.

"I mean, you probably would've made a great nun but…" Brown eyes twinkled.

Meg played along. "Oh, don't tell me. I've finally found my life's purpose," she laughed.

Blair chuckled. "Something like that." She shifted around to face Meg. "You just… you have a way with people, Meg. You're a natural with Nana." She pointed out.

 _Hmmm, true._

"You're the only one who can convince her to eat oatmeal three times a week," Blair jokingly nudged her.

"Darn right. It keeps her blood pressure down." Meg was half serious, half giggling.

They were like little kids tonight. They rarely got to spend time like this anymore. Not since they were kids and living at the mansion. Those days were filled with gossip, plans to run away from the main house and sneaking into the kitchen at night to steal chocolate pie. They were 7 and 10 years old, respectively.

Those years were long gone, and Meg had moved out with her mother once the divorce was final. Yet, they had always remained close and kept in touch, no matter the circumstance.

"I'm lucky," Meg said while giving Blair a warm look. "I have the best sister."

Blair lifted an eyebrow, absorbing the compliment. "Even if she …" she looked down at their tangled fingers in her lap, then back up into Meg's blue eyes, "…likes a woman?"

"Especially." It was said softly, sincerely, and Meg smiled as Blair threaded their fingers together while they sat there, both staring out at the city lights, holding hands.

Blair beamed. _I'm the lucky one._

"Sooo…" Meg cleared her throat. "Are you ready for the party?"

Blair rolled her eyes dramatically. "My mother and her society ladies wouldn't have it any other waaay," she sing-songed.

It was true. Monica Warner - first wife of David Warner - wanted a formal celebration with all of their family and friends there to congratulate Blair. That was the Warner way. They did things big, even though the celebration was invitation only and strictly _no_ press.

"I can't believe Daddy agreed to have it at the mansion," she said.

Meg nodded. "Mmm... convenience. Joyce agreed to it as well."

"Really?"

"Yep. I mean, it's in _your_ honor. She said she was glad some estrogen was finally in the driver's seat." Meg paused. "I think it helps her, you know? It hasn't been easy," she added.

"I know." It was all that could be said. Blair felt like she owed it to her grandmother to make this work… if not for her uncle. She'd simply take the baton and run with it.

"Are you bringing Paul?"

The question nudged Blair from her thoughts. She shrugged. "Who else?"

"Well, I was just wondering since he and Darren are getting married in two months." Meg pointed out.

"Good thing the party's this Sunday then," Blair jokingly reasoned. "Besides, he promised to decorate my new office." She turned a smile on Meg.

Meg shook her head. "God, the things you get yourself into…" That earned her a polite shove. Meg giggled then decided to venture out on a limb with her next question.

"Is Amanda invited?" She almost wanted to duck when she saw the slow turn of Blair's head. Their eyes met… one set vaguely irritated.

"I mentioned it to her." _This is what one gets for not washing the dishes_.

"And?"

 _May as well spill and get it over with_. "She said she might come a little later."

Blair saw Meg's intake of breath and decided to stop the interrogation in its tracks. "That's all your getting." She smiled sweetly, batting her eyes at her nosey step sister.

Meg ignored the gesture. "You really like her, huh?"

Blair gave her one more. "Yes. I do."

* * *

"Pop. Hey Pop?!" Jo pushed the front door of the brownstone open; a box of her stuff, not yet unpacked, had partially blocked the entrance.

She looked across the room and spied her father lounging on the couch. The Yankee's game was blaring on the wide screen television. She looked at the score. It was almost over, last inning, finally. Yankee's tied with Red Sox.

"Shh… batter up." Came the gruff reply.

Jo rubbed her chin then looked around. "Where's Ace?"

There was a crack of a bat, then a loud eruption from the fans in the stadium. "Whoo hoo!"

Jo smiled at the homer...she knew it was an easy win. "Pop?" Jo put her hands on her hips.

Charlie Polniaczek sat up and looked around before realizing what his daughter had asked. "Oh yeah, Mrs. De Palma took him for a walk."

" _Mrs._ De Palma?!" Jo's voice was rising.

Charlie shrugged. "Yeah. He had to go." He reached for a pair of crutches leaning on the table beside the couch and got to his feet. "You know I can't take him and you weren't here."

Jo moved a few more boxes to the side as she made her way to the couch. They were all over the apartment. She'd been back in the city eight days, and she was thankful to be afforded a nice apartment, courtesy of her job. All agents had to live close to the firm. In her case, JTI. She had to report in to work _before_ all of her stuff arrived from Los Angeles... which was just two days ago.

Jo rolled her eyes at her father. "Pop, Mrs. De Palma is four feet nine and weighs about eighty pounds."

Charlie had made his way over to the kitchen. "So?"

Jo's brow creased in frustration. "So? Pop, Ace practically _dragged_ her the last time she walked him. I told you to have her son do it."

Charlie popped open a can of beer and took a long drink before answering his daughter. "He's at work." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, noticing Jo's doubtful expression. "Quit worryin,' he had to piss. They'll be back any minute now." Charlie hobbled back over to the couch and took a seat. "Ah crap, I left my beer."

Jo shook her head. "I'll get it." She moved to get herself a beer as well, and then thought better of it. It _was_ eleven o'clock at night.

It was hard getting around in the three bedroom apartment with all the _stuff_ Jo had yet to unpack and arrange. Charlie was just glad she had agreed to take care of him until his cast came off. Jo had offered for him to stay in the spare bedroom, but he insisted on paying her rent. His trucking job afforded it.

He was _no_ freeloader.

As soon as the thing came off, he was back to his place and back on the road. Only this time, no lifting boxes with heavy machine parts in them. They get slippery and aim for the feet when they fall. He winced internally thinking about the box that broke two bones in his left foot. He was so close to the table...

Jo handed her father his beer, then took a seat beside him on the couch.

"Thanks," he took a sip. "Oh by the way, Tootie and Natalie came by. They brought your jacket." He pointed to the chair over by the television.

"Great. Thanks." She felt relived and moved to inspect the jacket pockets. Sure enough, her gloves and shades were in one of the side pockets and " _Thank God_ ," she murmured. Jo took out the phone and inspected it. She knew she'd locked it, but just wanted to make sure it wasn't tampered with.

"Hey, you know… it was great seein' them." Charlie burped, not bothering to excuse himself. "I can't believe how much you girls have grown up." He shook his head. "Everyone's gotta' job, a _career_. That Natalie's gonna' be the next Barbara Walters, you mark my words."

"She works in newspapers, Pop." Jo turned the phone on and immediately texted Natalie and Tootie to thank them, and to shame herself for forgetting something so important.

"Yeah well…" Charlie looked on as his daughter tapped away on her phone. "Where the hell ya' been all night, anyway? They came by here almost three hours ago."

Jo finished her message and sent it. "I had business."

"Huh…" Charlie finished the last of his beer. "They thought you'd be here. I didn't know what to tell 'em."

Jo started going through one of the boxes, taking out books and stacking them. "Yeah well, one of those things."

Charlie watched her, tilting his head to read the book titles. "Ya' know, as soon as I get my phone turned back on, I'm gonna' scrap it and get one of those fancy _tap_ phones you girls have."

Jo glanced up. "Swipe. And you'll still have to pay the bill."

"I know. I'm just waitin' on my check." Charlie said, he was also a man of his word.

The doorbell rang and Jo could hear the loud barking from the other side. She moved to answer the door. "Mrs. De Palma." She stated, then paused. "Did you pay her?"

Charlie scoffed. "What? _Before_ she finishes walkin' him? Hell no!" He pointed. "Twenty's on the box by the door there."

Jo grabbed it then opened the door, letting a very energetic dog burst into the apartment. " _Woof! Woof!"_

Her eyes fell on the small woman who was breathing quite heavily. "Hey there, Mrs. De Palma. Nice to see you," Jo said weakly with a pensive grin. "You want to come in for a minute?"

The older Asian lady shook her head. "No… I tired." She handed Jo the dog leash, then pointed to the now sprinting Jack Russell who was going from box to box sniffing and barking at each one. "He try to _drag_!"

Wincing internally, then casting a quick glower at Charlie, Jo scratched the back of her head, embarrassed. "Sorry about that." She held out the twenty-dollar bill. "Here's your money."

De Palma grabbed it then bowed slightly; holding the bill tightly in her hand. "I tell my son, next time… _he_ walk!" She shook the balled up bill towards Jo.

Jo apologized one last time as she watched the lady gingerly make her way down the steps of the brownstone.

 _Meo_ De Palma had married _Edgar_ De Palma; founder of more than five pasta diners in the city. They lived well. Their four sons ran the business for the most part.

"Ahh, Pop, would you cut that out?"

Charlie was letting Ace lick the last drops of beer from his can. "What? He likes it," he tilted the can more. "It keeps him calm, for Christ sakes. He's been haulin' ass all over this place."

Jo grabbed the can from her father. That earned her a growl from Ace and a scowl from Charlie. She threw the can in the recycling. "He's just used to a back yard to haul ass in," She informed.

Charlie grunted then picked up the remote, searching through the channels. "What he really needs is to get laid," he mumbled.

Jo caught it. "Pop…"

Charlie held up his hands in defense. "What? I'm tellin' the truth!"

Jo headed for the kitchen, Ace following closely behind her _. "Woof, woof_!" He was still quite wound up from his walk.

She reached down and scratched him behind his ears, earning a satisfied whine. She yawned before grabbing the box of dog treats from the bottom cupboard. "C'mon boy, time for a snack, then bed."

* * *

 **Hi everyone, I just wanted to thank you all sooo much for the kind words and encouragement in the reviews. I read every single one of them and your kindness has really kept me going with this story. It is truly, greatly appreiciated! - JGF**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for being patient folks! I've read all the comments so far and really appreciate your kindness...it really does keep me going. If you're on the edge of your seat I hope to keep you there for a while, lol.**

The evening had gone perfectly.

David Warner had asked everyone to refrain from taking pictures and posting them on social media; and they seemed to comply - the press itself had been successfully _restrained_.

Blair arrived with Paul and they had entered through the back-way. The mansion had been full of guests awaiting her entrance. It was elegant, the foyer exquisitely lit as the spotlight was on _one_ woman. You would've thought she was royalty. Well… she was in _her_ circle. It was a milestone reached, achieved - _earned_. And she was absorbing, enveloping and downright wallowing in every bit of it.

She had made her entrance from the top of the spiral staircase. Savoring the moment, the looks of awe on the faces of her guests... her family, friends of the family and the company. She glowed and delighted in the sparkling eyes that consumed her with each step.

She had kissed her father's cheek when he'd formally announced her, just like she did at the executive board meeting the morning before at The Warner building. They'd toasted her, and each of the _ten_ board members gave a brief yet flattering speech to the newly minted president.

Blair looked regal in her Christian Dior, _haute couture,_ gown – designed with her figure in mind. The loustrous black and white ensemble hugged her curves in all the right places. The strapless European design was cut low in the back, slit high up the left side and revealed a respectable amount of her bosom.

Her hair was swept up; spiral curls bounced on both sides of her face; a face that was drawn to perfection. She wore little jewelry; save the bracelet Joyce had given her when she'd first arrived. She accepted it from her Nana with pride. It was a family heirloom.

For two hours straight, Blair had worked the room like a pro; engaging in animated conversations, absorbing the well wishes, and reveling in the looks of adoration and flattering complements.

"If you will _please_ excuse me."

She politely bowed out of the latest conversation. Each one of the executives had been trying to bend her ear before she'd even had the chance to look at last quarter's numbers.

She grabbed a glass of champagne and made her way down the hall to her father's study. Brown eye's carefully peeked over a shoulder before the study door was cracked open swiftly, then closed. She was careful not to spill one drop as she leaned against the door and drank down the entire glass. " _God_."

Blair stood there for a moment, gathering her senses as she looked around the dimly lit office. A desk light had been left on. She walked over smiling gently as she softly traced the bottle her father's masterpiece was housed in.

Contained in glass. Such a regal, refined boat. _Never to be set free_ , she thought as she took in the intricate details of the mast and the stern. Even the boards of the deck looked real.

There was a light tap on the door that stirred Blair out of her trance. "Who is it?"

A blonde head peeked into the room. "I thought I saw you escape in here."

Blair sat with a huff on the small couch situated in front of the fireplace. She casted a glower toward her intruder. "What do you want, Robert?" She wasn't in the mood for him, and crossed her legs tightly. The slit in her dress caused the material to ride up high on her thigh, revealing an ample amount of her leg. She moved the material to cover as much as she could then sighed as her cousin entered the study.

Robert wore a smirk-like smile; it was almost smug. He looked around the office, admiring the décor before acknowledging his cousin's question; then, ultimately, ignoring it.

"Well now, wasn't that just a _fine_ display of exquisite bull-shit-dom," he deadpanned.

Blair stared at him blankly. She wasn't amused – a little insulted by his critique of her socializing technique – but _hardly_ amused.

Robert noticed her lack of a reaction and continued happily. "I think you played the royal princess quite well."

"Be serious."

"I am. I think you'll make the best figure head the company's seen in a long, long time." He cracked a smile. "I'd salute you with a toast, but I need to stay sober. I'm flying out in a few."

"I can't wait." Came the droll response.

Robert circled to face his cousin. "I'm sure you can't. But before I _do_ depart, I wanted to give you a piece of information I think you may be interested in. I mean, considering you've mentioned _my_ division which, by the way, is in Tokyo."

Blair resisted the urge to lift a questioning eyebrow. "And what would that be Robert?"

He gave a stern look at Blair. "Are you sure uncle David hasn't told you yet? I would hate to regurgitate _old_ information." His tone smacked of insincerity.

Blair drew in an annoyed breath then released it. "What are you talking about?"

Robert perched a hip on his uncle's desk. "Ah, well, I see he hasn't. So let me just get to the gist of it." A wide smile. "No use beating around the bush."

Blair uncrossed her legs and peered up at him; lips thin with growing anger. "What Robert?!"

"Two warehouses have burned down. _Our_ warehouses. In Tokyo." Robert held Blair with a hard stare.

She stilled for a moment then blinked at him several times. "What?"

Robert pursed his lips, pleased at her reaction. "I'm sure you heard me the first time, but just in case y—"

"Shut up!" Blair held up a hand then pushed off from the couch, almost knocking into her indigent cousin. She abruptly faced him. " How? When did this happen?!"

A shrug. "Not sure _how_. Both were empty and I believe uncle David said two days ago." Robert crossed his arms, watching her.

Blair swallowed a lump in her throat. "The funeral…"

Robert nodded. "Yes. It _was_ during the funeral," he informed snidely. "I'm sure he didn't want you to worry your pretty little head about it." He leaned into Blair, whispering, "… being his little princess and all."

Blair pushed Robert on the shoulders. "Why didn't YOU tell me!?"

He caught her hands, holding them. "What? And worry you? Besides, you have so many plans and ideas," he mocked.

"This affects _your_ division, you idiot!" She slapped his hands away then pointed a hard finger.

 _True._ Robert merely lifted an eyebrow, not that anxious to get into the details about the warehouses. He watched his cousin clench her fists; a light sheen of perspiration had broken out on her forehead.

She crossed the room frustratedly and raked a hand through her hair. "Thank God they were empty." Blair closed her eyes, sucking in a shakey breath. "Okay, okay this changes everything." Firm fists sat on hips.

Robert kept his voice low. "Blair. It happens. A few years ago that tsunami wiped out our coastal warehouse."

She ignored him. "Why didn't he tell me?" _Dammit Daddy!_

"He's a busy man. He's been putting out a lot of fires since my Dad died...of course, now they'll be _your_ fires," Robert happily pointed out.

Blair approached him. "Anything else _you_ or my father forgot to tell me about, Robert?" She was tired of feeling like she had to play catch up.

Robert tapped his chin in thought. "No, not that I can think of at the moment."

Blair eyed him head on. "Think real hard." She was tired of his leary demeanor.

Robert chuckled, ignoring her. "Look, I'll be sure to keep you informed of the incident once I find out anything." A toothy smile.

Blair smirked at him. "Incident." _That's_ _what we're calling it?_ She scoffed.

Robert nodded. "There's an investigation. Once I land, they'll inform me of what they've found and _you_ can take it from there." He smiled at her, his eyes half lidded in smug confidence. It made Blair want to smack the look off of his face.

"I _will_ get to the bottom of this." Her tone droped dangerously.

"I'm sure you will." Came the offhanded reply. "I know this wasn't how you envisioned your first day on the job, Blair. But these things happen."

He moved to stand in front of her. "It's a loss of probably millions of dollars." Another smile, "…and sure it's _my_ division, but we both know this will come down on _your_ head, and..." he drew in a breath. "Well, we can't win them _all_ now can we?"

Blair narrowed her eyes; his remarks were spiteful, calculated. Robert had deliberately pushed a delicate button. She moved a mere inches from his face. " _You little_ —"

" **BLAIR?** Blair darling! Joyce said she saw you walk this way are you in there? I hear voices..."

Blair jerked then backed off from Robert upon recognizing the voice. It was piercing and unmistakable, even muffled from the other side of the door.

 _Mother_.

Robert quickly made his way to the door and snatched it open. Monica Warner was in mid-knock and held a glass of champagne in her other hand. Robert took her in, her red gown fit her well and her hair was swept off the shoulder to one side.

"Ah, Monica. So good to see you," He purred.

Monica was startled for a second. "Robert… is? Oh, there you are darling! Paul's been looking for you." She pushed past Robert into the study toward her daughter.

"Mother, please, I… "

"You shouldn't keep the man waiting," Monica interrupted. "Now dear, everyone has been asking where you've disappeared to."

Blair pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel her stress level rising. "Mother, please, I just needed a moment _to_ … "

"We were just having shop talk is all, Monica," Robert interjected.

"Shop talk? Dear, can't that wait until tomorrow? You have guests and the women's garden club want a picture with you." Monica whined.

Blair held up a hand. "Mother, can you just give me a second? Please?"

Startled, Monica sniffed before shifting her hips and taking a sip of champagne.

" _Blair?"_

All three heads turned to see Meg standing in the doorway, slightly perplexed at the small gathering.

Blair huffed. "Can I just have a few minutes to get my thoughts together?"

Meg leveled a serious look at her step sister, then softened her voice. "Actually, there's someone here to see you." She stepped aside revealing a dark haired woman.

Robert caught the widening of Blair's eyes and couldn't believe his good fortune. He swiftly moved to greet the slightly confused looking woman in the doorway.

"Ah, Amanda! So good to see you again." His tone dripped of sarcasm as he grabbed her shoulders and guided her into the room. He could see Blair stiffen almost defensively from the corner of his eye.

Amanda glanced at everyone as she was shuffled from the doorway, not certain why this particular group was together, away from the party. "What's going on?"

Robert kept his hands on her shoulders. "Blair and I were just putting our heads together before I fly back to Tokyo. She has a lot of _ideas_ for my division."

Monica turned a sour face towards her daughter. "Really dear, you're already following in your father's footsteps. He was always _too_ busy for anything other than business."

"Mother that's n-not… " Blair tripped over her words.

"Amanda dear. How _is_ your mother?" Monica decided a change of subject was in order.

"She's well. I guess," Amanda answered as she shifted confused eyes toward Blair.

"Good. Please tell her we'll have to do lunch soon. I have a few _ideas_ I want to run by the gallery board." Monica said smugly.

"I will. Is everything all right here?" Amanda asked, concerned.

"Absolutely," Robert supplied; then decided to have a little fun. "Well, I'm sure Blair will tell you all about it… _later_."

It was worth it. The look on Blair's face was priceless. She blanched and almost choked on a huge gulp of air while turning a bright color of red.

"Robert!" Meg abruptly shouted. She grabbed his hand and yanked him toward the door, ignoring his chuckle at her stepsister's expense. "Let's give Blair some space. It's been quite a night for her." The last part said through clenched teeth.

Blair scowled at Robert, then exhaled deeply. "Thank you Meg."

Monica scoffed not amused. "Darling, hurry up and gather yourself together." She drank the last of her champagne then motioned with her finger at each one of them. "This looks quite rude." She moved past everyone to leave.

"I'll be out in a few." Blair weakly called after her; then slumped back onto the couch.

Robert couldn't resist. "Oh really? You promise?"

"Robert!" Meg yelled from the hallway.

"Coming," he shot Blair a wicked grin as he shut the door behind him, leaving her and Amanda alone in the dimly lit office.

It was a relief; the few seconds of silence were welcomed. The air had crackled with tension and Blair was almost dizzy with anxiety.

Amanda took a moment to really look at Blair. She let her eyes linger on the toned frame. They slowly took in the blondes sexily dressed body. Noticing her for the first time tonight, she realized her good fortune of just _knowing_ the woman. The now, newly christened, _President_ of Warner Textiles. _Wow_!

She looked good… damn good; and she couldn't help the rush that colored her cheeks, _but_ … first things first. She moved to sit beside Blair on the couch.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Amanda asked softly.

Blair shook her head dismissively. "It's nothing."

Amanda gently put a hand on Blair's knee. "Blair. We said we would trust each other and tell each other when we were going through something. I'm here for you." She moved her head to try and capture brown eyes.

Blair tensed a bit. She sighed, her anger at Robert and her father being all she could bare at the moment. She slowly stood and faced the sitting woman who was looking at her openly. It made her feel guilty.

"I know. Really, it's just business." Brown eyes rolled at her own flat explanation. "God, I know that sounds cliché, but please just…" she could feel her cheeks turning red. "I sound stupid, I know..."

"Blair," Amanda said softly. She stood, faced Blair and waited. The blonde not quite meeting her concerned eyes.

"I just, I hate feeling helpless," Blair looked up into confused eyes. She immediately regretted making the admission.

Amanda's eyes went wide. "What are you talking about? Did something bad happen?"

Blair shook her head. "Nothing I can't handle." She tried to give a reassuring smile.

She hated the feeling, hated that Robert seemed to be on the inside of everything before she'd even taken the _Big Chair_ , as he had often sarcastically stated of her new position. Blair shook her head, forcing the frustration out of her mind for the time being. Not tonight. This was _her_ night. _You don't win Robert_ _!_

Blair steeled herself and decided to salvage the rest of the evening, and even better, with the one person she wanted to go home with.

She smiled at Amanda. "I'll tell Paul he can get a sudden headache and leave."

Amanda cracked a half smile at the comment, then took a step back. Nodding slowly, she decided to drop the questioning for now. With Blair's sudden change in attitude, she didn't want to tilt things _against_ her favor.

She'd play along. "He did look kind of bored. People keep asking him if the two of you are going to get engaged any time soon," Amanda laughed at the blondes sneer.

Blair wasn't surprised. Paul had been the perfect "partner" for her the past two months. Or _beard_ as Amanda called him. He was her latest arm piece for the evening; especially for lavish events. When the night was over, he'd simply drive her home and peck her on the cheek, only to go home to his husband-to-be.

Blair had met Paul six months earlier when he was hired through HR to redecorate the executive offices at The Warner building. He was one of New York's up and coming interior designer's, complete with his own firm. He came highly recommended. He was tall, handsome, and completely Blair's type, according to social media. Their arrangement worked for both of them well enough.

Blair gazed at Amanda. "You look nice."

She took in the dark blue dress that accentuated the brunette's curves. Her dark, wavy hair was down, the way Blair liked it. Her make-up was minimal, but just enough. Blair kissed her cheek. "C'mon, let's go put Paul out of his misery."

Amanda laughed then took Blair's hand. "Sooo… what _am_ I to you tonight?"

It was a fair question. Blair swung their entwined hands slightly as she led the way to the door. "Friend. My close friend." She opened it.

Amanda accepted that, for now. She wanted to get to know Blair better, much better. So she settled, nodding her head in understanding.

Blair dropped Amanda's hand once they entered the hall. She smoothed nervous hands over her gown and took a deep breath preparing to dive back into the crowd that awaited her.

* * *

Overhead clouds were slowly breaking up as a low fog lifted; the bright morning sun burning off the thick density to a thin mist. It was a crisp Monday morning. The three agents had met at JTI headquarters, and they stood on the sidewalk outside of the four-story building in their pressed suits. They quickly finished syncronizing their watches as they waited for the cab they had hailed to pull up.

Eric had given each agent an auidio receptor. It was attached to the back of the ear where the small device was adheared by a thin strip of flesh colored tape. Two taps on the device would turn it on. A necklace for both Jo and Agent Summers and tie clip for Agent Mendoza, was for speaking into.

They got situated in the taxi which was a little cramped. First on the agenda was to make sure their devices were in working order before they reached The Warner building.

The cabby frequently glanced at them from the rear view mirror. He had put up the partition and the agents were careful they couldn't be heard.

" _Alright. Let's do a quick test_." Eric's voice crackled into their earpieces. He was at JTI headquarters and had a full line into each agent's device.

" _Mendoza?"_

"Clear."

 _"Summers?"_

"Clear."

" _Polniaczek?"_

"Clear."

"Alright, we're all set Eric. I'm going to quickly go over the format for our presentation, then we'll go in," Jo said.

" _Good, don't forget to keep your phones nearby, that's the only way the earpieces will work_ ," he informed them.

"Not a problem." Jo had made special note to keep her phone close to her. She put it inside her leather briefcase along with her notes for the upcoming meeting.

The cab pulled up outside the front entrance to The Warner building. They had arrived in the financial and corporate business district of New York City, located in the southern most part of Manhattan. Professionals and young hipsters littered the sidewalks, busily trying to reach their destinations.

The Warner building was quite a spectacle. It was 40 floors of concrete, steel and windows. A huge waterfall graced the landscape at the front of the building, as well as a tall steel sculpture that looked like an old world loom, once used to spin cotton.

The agents exited the cab then made their way to the outdoor atrium, which was an elaborate area that led to the front entrance.

Jo checked her watch. "We've got about thirty minutes, let's go over the notes."

Mendoza and Summers retrieved their papers, making sure everything was in order. Their presentation had to be a smooth sale.

Jo momentarily thought to text Blair of her arrival, then thought better of it. She smiled. _I'll see you soon enough_. She retrieved her notes from her briefcase and started on the talking points.

* * *

The executive offices on the top floors of The Warner building were quite large, plush, and very quiet. Blair's new office had just received a new paint job, but the walls and furniture awaited Paul's professional makeover. So she settled for her uncle's leather couch and wood carved desk for now.

She did, however, bring her own chair. It was a leather executive chair with three adjustments for comfort. It had a high back and she had broken it in to fit her posterior just right. It suited her completely.

The executive secretary's area resided just outside her door in the lobby. It was vacant for the time being.

A graying head of hair peeked in to her office. "Blair?"

The president of Warner Textiles was sitting at her desk; neck high in paper work sent up by HR. The duties of a new president usually started with endless signatures and her hand was already starting to cramp from it.

She had barely glanced up at the interruption. "Daddy. Hi."

David smiled at his daughter; she was quickly getting down to business. _Good_. He looked around the office then glanced back outside of her door, lifting a brow. "Where's your secretary?"

Blair scribbled a few things then added the sheet of paper to the growing pile on one side of her desk, before picking up another. "Still interviewing." She creased her brow, scanning through an especially puzzling document.

David watched her for a moment. He was dressed in a polo shirt and golfing pants and had a manila folder in his hand.

"I see...Uh, Blair," he paused. "I need you to sign in a _group_." He winced at the lack of a better segue, but, well, _group_ pretty much summed up what Jo and the other agents were. A group of systems analysts.

Blair barely batted and eye, just catching the last word. " _Group_ for what?" Not looking up, she typed a few notes on her pad.

"They're just a group of analysts Russell already approved." David sucked in a breath. "They're doing a capstone of Warner Textiles."

A nod. "What's that?"

"It's a project. They'll be speaking to the executive board in about thirty minutes. You just need to sign them in so they can get approval for their security badges. It's part of our community outreach department." David concluded quickly.

He watched as his daughter spared him a few glances between typing. Blair heard the words _approve_ , _security_ , and _community outreach_.

"Fine."

David smiled, relieved. "I'm sure you'll be quite happy with the project. As a matter of fact, you may even know a member or two," he added.

Blair leaned back in her chair and blew out a breath. "Daddy, I have a lot on my plate this morning. Just leave the paperwork there. I'll sign it in a moment." She pointed to the only empty space on her desk.

 _Great_. He dropped the folder. "Well, I'm off to my game." He started for the door.

Blair looked up, stopping her actions, and watched her father make his way acoss the room. She put her pad down, realizing she needed to clear the air on a few things before her day got any more hectic.

No time like the present.

"You sure there isn't something _else_ you need to tell me before I start my first day on the job?" She stated casually.

David stopped and turned, a little caught off guard. He faced his daughter; noticing he now had her full attention. "No." He said a little guardedly while gradually making his way back to her desk.

"Sweetheart, I'm sure you'll handle everything just fine," he managed smoothly, and winked as he turned to leave again.

Blair waited until he reached the door. "Well, I thought I'd run some issues by you I have about a division I think needs a boost, or a jolt." She watched as her father slowly turned to face her.

David pointed to his watch. "Okay. Really quick, I have a 9 a.m. tee time."

Blair spared no introductions. "It's in _Tokyo, Japan_." She sniffed at her father's expression – one of alarm - as he quickly covered it. "I was thinking we could double our _silk_ supply. I also have a few… "

David held up a hand. "Wait. Wait a minute Blair." He shook his head. "You don't have any numbers for Tokyo. Besides, that tsunami wiped us out a few years back. Manufacturing has been _strictly_ in the warehouses up north." His voice took on a serious tone.

 _Nice try, Daddy_. "What about the two warehouses we have there now?"

David opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. "Well. Th-they, they…"

"Don't exist anymore." Came the reply. Blair smirked.

He caught it… all of it. The look on Blair's face spelled out his worst nightmare. She _knew_ he'd lied to her.

"Blair… "

"Robert told me." Blair pursed her lips at her father's shocked expression. "Don't look so surprised. It's his division and he just _loved_ the fact that I was blindsided by this information." She tossed at him.

David could only shake his head. "Blair, look…"

Blair stood up from her chair, she could feel her anger building. "Thank God there were no casualties. When were you going to tell me?"

"It's not like that. There's an investigation by the Tokyo authorities going on right now. They'll let us know how it happened and then we'll take it from there." David's voice was almost pleading.

Blair slowly rounded the large desk and approached her father, his cautious eyes watching her. She made an effort to steady her voice. "I think I can handle it from here."

"Blair, this is not something you need to be concerned with." David was obstinate. "It happened before you took over. This is not on your watch!"

 _Oh really_? "If I'm going to be president of Warner Textiles, I expect to be notified first, no matter what it is. I expect to know everything! This affects _our_ company."

David started to step closer, then thought better of it when he caught a warning glare in brown eyes. "Blair, you don't need to worry about this on top of everything else," he gestured to the stack of papers on her desk. "You have a lot to handle right now."

Blair took a deep, steady breath. She felt a pang of hurt at her father's words. What happened to " _you can handle this?"_ She shook off the feeling.

"You're treating me like I'm incompetent." She said firmly.

"I'm not," David felt deflated; he could tell he was slowly losing this battle. "…not treating you like that." His voice faltered.

Blair pinned him with a stern look. " _I_ am the President of this company. You have to let me do my job."

She sat on the edge of the desk, almost knocking over the stack of papers, and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. _"_ God, Daddy, do you know how humiliating it was for Robert to tell me that?!"

David reached out in an attempt to touch Blair's shoulders in sympathy. "Sweetheart."

"Don't _sweetheart_ me!" She turned away from his approaching hands.

"Blair, the funeral… it," David's words faltered for a moment.

Blair stared at her father, not quite believing what she was hearing. "Don't use Uncle Russell to get off the hook!"

David met his daughter's eyes; then looked down at his hands. She was right. No more lies. The best thing to do was own up to the mess they were in and figure a way out of it.

 _Blair knows… and Robert..._ He shook his head. _That_ was one loose end he would take care of personally.

Right now, he couldn't risk Blair digging deeper and potentially blowing the entire investigation. David rang his hands together. He peered up at his daughter, hoping she would see the apology in his eyes; not quite sure words were working at the moment.

"I, uh, I'm sorry. I guess a part of me will always want to protect you." It wasn't easy to say, but true, and somehow that made him feel a little bit vindicated.

Blair studied the man in front of her. Yes, he had always wanted to safe guard his little princess, his heir to the throne. But she wasn't really _his_ anymore, was she?

She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. "You have to let me do my job, Daddy."

David slowly nodded his head in agreement. "I know." David's voice was soft, remorseful. He waited for Blair to accept his apology.

She peered at him. "Please don't let this happen again."

"I won't." David breathed an internal sigh of relief. He stared at Blair in wonderment for a moment. She had proven herself to be reliable, capable and especially driven. Those were Warner traits, and he was glad they were alive and thriving within his daughter, _scratch that,_ his daughter who was now president of Warner Textiles.

"You're right, Blair. I need to let you do your job." He cracked a smile. His little girl was… a woman.

Blair wasn't letting him off the hook. "I expect to be updated about the investigation _first_ Daddy, not last or kept in the dark."

It was a direct command, one David didn't want to fight or argue. No. It was best to let her in on the surface, and keep her there. That would be enough to satisfy her until they cleared this whole thing up, he reasoned.

"All right, I'll put you in touch with the lead investigator over there," he conceded.

Blair nodded. "I'm looking forward to that." Her expression still guarded. She watched as her father moved to exit her office.

He turned around one last time. "I'll be sure to get you that information soon," he concluded.

"I'd appreciate that."

Blair noticed a shift in their relationship. Lately they had kept their dealings business-like, something her father had always taught her. You wear two hats in life: one personal, the other business. When you walk into Warner Textiles, you leave your personal hat at the door and wear your business hat at all times.

 _Never_ get them confused.

She decided it was best to wear that hat whenever she entered into the executive elevators at Warner Textiles and pressed the 39th floor, from now on.

"I have a lot of work I need to… " Blair indicated the stack of papers.

David nodded in understanding. He pointed to the folder on her desk. "Don't forget to sign _that_ paperwork," he smiled as he made his way to the door and left.

Blair watched as he rounded the corner, then let the moment settle over her for a few seconds. She had stood up to her father… well… _worked_ with him, as she preferred to reference it.

It felt good, and she realized she actually looked forward to butting heads with him from time to time. Such was the nature of business as she'd learned while rising through the ranks. Today was just her first taste of a new flavor. One with spice and zeal...and at times a little bitter and sour. She frowned a little as she realized that was probably the pallet she would have to deal with from now on.

"Blair?"

 _Meg._

"Hi." The blonde woman entered the office, noticing the disarray on Blair's desk. "Rough day so far? I saw David leaving."

Blair shook her head. "I'm handling it." She ran a quick hand through her hair. "What brings you to my mad house?"

Meg moved to stand beside her stepsister. "You said to track you down when it came." She held out an envelope. "I signed for it at the mansion."

Blair eyed it. _Great_. "Thanks."

She took it, then turned with measured steps to sit back down at her desk. She smoothed her fingertips over the surface of the envelope, staring at it blankly.

Meg watched Blair. "You want me to stay for a while? Or… "

Blair shook her head as she smiled a _thank you_. "No. I think I can…" her voice trailed off as she felt the weight of the morning settling in on her.

Meg waited for a second before responding. She felt a pang of sympathy. "Ok. Call me if you need me," she said softly.

Blair nodded without looking up. "I will."

Meg nodded back then left quietly, having done her job. She shut the door gently.

Blair swiveled back and forth in her chair. She picked up the envelope, as she turned and took in the view. The floor to ceiling windows allowed a spectacular vista of the city. She could see the Brooklyn Bridge off in the distance. Over to the other side, she was just barely able to make out the Statue of Liberty.

She sat back and looked over the enormous expanse of buildings for several quiet moments. She thought about how much her life had changed in just a few months. How much _she'd_ changed.

Or had she?

 _Maybe not all that much_ , she mused.

Turning back around, Blair opened the envelope. As she removed the papers, she drew in a deep breath and picked up her cell phone, dialed, and waited. She could feel her heart beat pick up when she heard a _click._

"Hi." She got out quickly.

There was a pause. " _Hi. I, I guess you got_ …"

"Yeah. Looking at them now." Blair unfolded the small bunch of papers and smoothed them out on her desk.

" _Me too_."

She heard breathing on the other end; it matched her own.

 _"Ready?"_

Blair leaned back and rolled her eyes to the ceiling then laughed grimly to herself. "Is anyone ever _ready_ to sign divorce papers, Cliff?"

Cliff sighed heavily. " _Blair. I just want you to know…"_

"Don't...Please Cliff..."

 _"I adore you_."

Blair shook her head, not wanting this, not needing him to take up any slack for her.

" _You are the most wonderful, caring woman in the world._ " His words came out heavy and heartfelt.

Blair felt the tinge of tears start to prickle the back of her eyelids. "Cliff…"

" _Let me finish_." His voice broke. " _You deserve the best Blair. You deserve someone who will give you everything you've ever wanted."_

Cliff took in a shaky breath _. "I love you Blair. I always will_." He whispered.

Blair let the tears fall, her vision blurred as she looked down at the papers in front of her. "Cliff, God I'm… I'm _so_ sorry I hurt you."

She had blurted it, but it was out, and she was glad she'd said it. She heard him sniffle.

" _No. No don't look at it that way. You've given me so much. You're companionship… "_

His voice broke again. Blair was at a loss for words, so she just sat there and let him finish.

" _Friendship."_ Cliff cleared his throat. " _If that's all we can ever be, then I'm proud of that. Don't ever believe anything else."_

"Cliff." Blair searched her mind for something, anything, to say. She came up with nothing, so she let the silence say it for her. They remained quiet for a few moments, each gathering their wits.

" _Let's do this Blair. C'mon. Like we said… together_."

Blair took a breath then reached over and grabbed a pen. She fought to keep her hand steady. "Together."

It was only two lines really… two lines that ended it all. Two lines that meant _end_ and _begin_ and _new_ and… what exactly? Blair stared at it as she dated the last line.

 _Done._

There was paper rustling, then Cliff noticeably tried to change his tone to a more up-beat one. _"And look, next time I'm in New York… "_

"Call me," Blair interrupted. She fanned her face, careful not to disturb her makeup. She found herself smiling through the tears, regardless. "We'll do lunch, dinner, whatever," she softened her voice. "I just want to see you."

She could hear Cliff struggle with his words. " _I will."_ He finally got out.

Blair was silent. She waited; her heart pounding in her chest.

" _Well, goodbye, Blair."_

She let out a long breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "Goodbye, Cliff."

Everything was still for a while after ending the call. Blair let the moment wash over her. A barage of emotions threatened to overtake her, and she clamped down on them. Not today, not when she was being hit with so many things in a spanse of just an hour. She tilted her head onto the back of her chair and just rested it there. _God, this is_ _not_ _how I wanted my first day to start._ She leveled a weary glance over her desk and sighed. Now would be a good time to keep busy and, anyway, things weren't going to get done if she didn't start.

 _Right_.

She reached across and picked up the folder her father had dropped off earlier. Sitting back, she opened it and scanned the contents.

 _What is this?_

* * *

"...Badges."

The security guard handed the three agents their plastic identification badges with the pictures that Eric had provided on them. Their titles read: JTI Guest Systems Analysts for WT.

"And if you'll just wait a second, I'm sure mid-level security will send your information and we'll have you all cleared." The gaurd gave them a quick smile as he finished typing.

"Thank you." Jo and the other two Agents had gathered in the busiest area of the morning rush, the entrance lobby. It was getting close to 9 a.m. and a steady stream of company employees was making their way through security.

"If you'll just stand over there please, to let the others pass through. Thank you." The gaurd pointed to a clearing off to the side of the security scanner near the revolving door entrance.

"Thought they would've had us all ready to go by now," Agent Mendoza checked his watch.

Jo smirked. "Yeah, well..." _Me too._

The security guard finished typing on the computer and addressed them. "Okay, looks like we're all set. If you'll just scan your badges here you'll be through."

Summers and Mendoza got through easily. They waited while Jo scanned her badge. She swiped it, setting off red lights and a default noise that garnered the attention of several people in the lobby.

"Hold on." The guard typed in the code again. "Scan it one more time, miss…" He checked her name. "Pol-nia-czek." He said it right the first time, which earned him a smile.

She swiped it, setting off the lights again.

"Huh. Must be a glitch somewhere." He took the badge from Jo. "I'll check the code again."

Jo nodded as she sighed loudly. She noticed several curious onlookers now openly staring. _Wonderful_.

"Could be a while. The system refreshes every five minutes." The guard shot her an apologetic look.

 _Well that sucks_. Jo called over to the other agents. "Look, guy's, here's my information." She handed them her briefcase. "Take it up and look over my part. I'll be up in a few. If I'm not there on time, just start without me." Jo stated directly. She didn't want anything holding them back. They needed to stay on schedule.

Summers nodded in understanding and took the briefcase. "Sure thing." They went around the corner and took the elevator up to the 39th floor.

Jo looked around the lobby. It was huge, grandiose. There was a tiered water fall fountain full of various and intricate water sculptures that ran down the center of the space. Huge flower pots that looked like their outer decor had been hand carved sat at various corners of the lobby; their flower arrangments coordinating with the color scheme - rounded out the theme. She glanced toward the east corner - the coffee bar had a line, as did the cafe. _Fancy_.

Rocking back on her heels, Jo waited a few more minutes; then realizing time was of the essence, addressed the security guard. "Any luck?"

The guard shook his head. "I've tried it three times now Ms. Polniaczek. No luck. I don't think there's a glitch; maybe the wrong code. Let me call mid- level security, have them run you through again."

Jo had no choice but to comply. "All right." She leaned against the wall, cocking one foot up against it and pushed hands into her suit jacket pockets as she waited.

A few moments later the guard was finishing his conversation with mid-level security. "Uh, huh, okay… thanks." He hung up and called over to Jo. "Ms. Polniaczek."

"Yes?"

"Just found the problem."

She pushed off from the wall. "What is it?"

"You weren't cleared by top-level."

Jo stared at him. "I don't understand. Why not?"

The guard raised his eyebrows not sure how to answer. "Well… it could be one of two things."

 _Unbelievable_. "Which are?" Jo was starting to feel anxious; time was getting away from her.

The guard thought for a moment before answering. "One, you were given the wrong code to begin with, but we've already ruled that out. Two, you weren't actually signed in from the top."

Jo could feel her frustration mounting. Her voice took on an apprehensive tone. "The top. Who's the top of security?"

The guard kept his voice low. David Warner had briefed the guards of his daughters appointment but the formal announcment was still not until that afternoon. "The President."

 _Blair_.

Jo shook her head in disbelief, then cracked a small smile. "What. You're kidding me right? This is a _joke_ right?" She checked her watch again.

"We don't joke here, ma'am." The security guard kept his face neutral.

"C'mon, are you kidding me?" Jo bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

It was absurd, really. Blair _would_ decide to play a joke on her now. _Bad timing Blair, really bad timing_.

The guard typed something into the computer then motioned to another guard across the room. "Not kidding."

Jo shook her head, her irritation at her friend, scratch that, _former_ friend had her on edge. She pulled her cell phone out and dialed Blair's number.

"Fine, great… " She listened as the prompts led to Blair's voice mail. " _Of course_ ," Jo sighed and waited for the _ping_.

She kept a hushed tone. "Blair, Blair pick up the phone. I'm down here in the lobby. You mind signing me in?" Jo tightened her jaw as she ended the call.

Two security guards rapidly approached her as more people stopped to gauge the situation. The large guard stopped in front of Jo and gestured toward the front entrance. "Ma'am, please step aside."

Jo ignored him and started to send a quick text to Blair. "Just give me a second." She hastily typed in the words.

 _Blair sign me in now!_

"They'll straighten this out any second now." She was trying to stay calm. It was embarrassing to say the least. Jo sensed curious eyes on her as she _stood there_ and waited. The two security guards, thank goodness, decided to wait along with her. A minute later, one of the guard's phones chimed. Glancing at the device he then nodded to the other guard.

"Ms. Polniaczek?"

"Yes?" Jo swallowed.

"I've been given instructions to escort you from the building."

Jo's eyes grew wide. " _What?"_ Her voice failed her for a second. When she realized exactly what he was saying, she was momentarily stunned.

The tall guard moved to grab her arm. "Please, if you'll just…" He started to walk her toward the revolving door.

Jo pulled her arm from the guard's grasp. "Hold on a second, did you talk to the top?"

"Ma'am, we have _orders_ for you to leave the building." He grabbed her arm again.

Jo grunted and yanked her arm, unable to escape the strong grasp. She huffed angrily. "Don't touch me! What the hell is going on?!" A moderately large crowd had gathered around them.

"I'm just carrying out _orders,_ ma'am."

The guard had Jo over by the rotating door entrance, but she escaped the mauling grasp and leveled an angry stare at him. She snatched her suit jacket straight and exhaled, ruffling her bangs.

She played his words back, and couldn't quite believe what she'd heard. "Orders? _Who's_ orders?!" She breathed.

"Mine."

It was simply stated. And there were audible gasps. The crowd parted as Blair stepped in to view and locked eyes with the stunned brunette.

 _What in the_? It was almost surreal. Jo looked into unwavering brown eyes trying to gauge the reasoning of her long time friend. Her face went from angry, to questioning, to confused.

Blair barely batted an eye. She stood there in her white blouse and powder blue pencil skirt; three-inch heels completed the look. Her hands were defensively on her hips. Her outfit was corporate, elegant yet, no nonsense. She sucked in her cheeks. Lifting her eyebrows she displayed a daring expression.

Jo knew the look. It meant Blair was serious, and she barely refrained from asking her if she _really_ was. She took a careful step forward. "Blair, what's going on?"

Blair snapped her eyes to her security guard. "Is Ms. Polniaczek giving you a hard time?"

Jo looked back and forth between the two of them. "Blair, what's going on?!" She repeated.

Brown eyes slowly rolled to green. They were remarkably cold and unfeeling. "I think my security has made that _quite_ clear." Blair nodded to the guards, who moved toward Jo, each grabbing an arm to lead her out.

She was shocked, and struggled to maintain her balance as the guards physically moved her to enter the revolving doors. "I don't... wait, Blair!"

"Make sure she's off property grounds as well," Blair tossed back over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and made her way back through the crowd.

Legs moving, hips swaying, heels clicking as they moved away, down the lobby and around the corner without a glance backward. That's _all_ Jo saw as she was put in the revolving door.

"Blair! _Shi_ — Wait, wait… BLAIR!" One of the guard's had rolled around with her, still gripping her tightly.

He finally let go once they were outside the building. "Alright, alright! _Dammit_!" She glared at him, rubbing where he'd handled her arm.

He glared back and stayed beside her until she calmed down.

Jo scowled at the imposing man; then turned and discreetly tapped the back of her ear. She did it twice, not getting feedback from Eric.

That's when she realized… _my phone_ … There was no reception without it nearby and, unfortunately, it, as well as her wallet, was upstairs in her briefcase with Summers and Mendoza at _her_ meeting. She had also disabled the device from receiving any calls or texts that weren't authorized, including her own personal phone.

Jo closed her eyes in frustration. She glanced at her watch. The meeting was already five minutes in. _Terrific._

She looked at the guard. His expression was unreadable. She took her phone out and redialed Blair, then paused thinking better of it. She stopped the call before the first ring. Starring down at the device in her hand, Blair's phone number was displayed and a surge of feelings went through her. She couldn't help being furious at the humiliating way she'd been treated. _What the hell Blair!_

She was determined to shake it off. Concentrate. There was a job to be done. _Focus,_ she breathed. Jo scrolled down and tapped in the next number. Gathering herself together, she decided to keep things above the level and not mention what had happened a few moments ago.

"Eric. I have a problem. I, uh… I can't get upstairs…. Yeah. I know they started already…. I don't know, some glitch with security. I'll keep working on it… No. They know to start without me… Okay… Yeah. Bye."

 _Fuck!_

Jo immediately dialed the next number. It didn't pick up and went straight to voice mail. "Mr. Warner, Jo Polniaczek. I have a problem. Security is having issues with my clearance. I was wondering if you could clear that up for me. Thanks."

Jo ran a hand through her hair as she watched the security guard walk back into the building. He had placed her on the pedestrian sidewalk, completely off of The Warner building property.

Looking up at the building, she had to shield her eyes from the early morning sun. She spotted the top floor, wondering how well her two comrades were faring with the executive board. Sighing, she decided to take a walk. She was at a complete loss for what had happened between herself and Blair.

 _She's mad at me_. That was for sure.

They had argued in the past, even given each other the silent treatment. Their record was two months; but this was something entirely different. Blair had all but shut Jo out of her life for almost a year, with no explanation.

 _It hurt._ She admitted.

Jo hadn't a clue how to even approach Blair. She walked along the sidewalk blending into the crowd as traffic was heavy and the streets were busy. Even the hot dog vendors had quite a few patrons this early in the morning.

She looked at the cityscape as she walked along; remembering her trips downtown as a child. Smiling to herself she recollected many stolen train rides that had led to fun excursions to the big rock. She and her cousins would venture into the city to look at the pretty buildings. They would stare at the expensive clothes and jewelry through the store windows, only to be told to move along. They'd left several sets of smudged fingerprints on the glass.

Jo stopped on the corner and let out a frustrated sigh as she waited for the light to change. The hissing steam from the manholes mixed in with the rush of traffic as a barrage of horns chimed in to the audible morning scene.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, the light changed and Jo stepped off the curb and made her way down the sidewalk.

 _Oh Blair, what happened?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Everyone, thanks for being so patient. I've read all the wonderful and thoughtful, and hilarious reviews and feedback – and you guys are just awesome. It really keeps me going….** **w** **elp, this is the beginning of something in this chapter…but remember - the long haul is still in full effect ya'll. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Thanks for picking me up."

"No problem. Harris thinks I'm out in the field." Natalie was slumped over the steering wheel as she watched Jo get into her company car. It was a small, white Neon that had the company logo on the side.

"You mind telling me why I'm picking you up on the streets of New York City?" She asked.

Jo slammed the door shut and noticed several empty cans of root beer and a large bag of raw vegetables between them.

"It's nothing." She clicked her seatbelt, taking a few seconds to think of a reply that wouldn't trigger Natalie's radar. She was all too aware of the reporter's instincts.

"Forgot my notes back at the apartment. I, uh, took a cab in this morning...and let's just say, I'm terrible at keeping up with my work phone." Jo chuckled feeling all too frustrated.

Natalie smirked. _And too cheap to hail a cab home apparently_. "That phone again. Jo you really… "

She was interrupted by the crackling static of the transmitter sitting between them. "Sorry, gotta' take this." Natalie put in an earpiece and clicked on a button.

Jo gladly accepted the interruption. She eased back in the seat and pointed out the turns as they made their way to her apartment.

"…Yeah. Okay... Good... let him take it. I have something else I'm working on." Natalie clicked off the receiver.

Jo lifted a brow. "New story?"

Natalie smirked. "Two nine year old kids, a stolen bike and missing Pokémon cards."

She chuckled at Jo's surprised expression. "That'd be the most excitement I've had in two days." She made a right turn. "I let Dale have it, kids that age give me a rash."

Dale was another cub reporter and Natalie's rival. They both scouted the streets looking for that _one_ breaking story that would make Harris take notice to promote them to the next level. Natalie was sure she would beat him to the punch.

"Turn here, go down four buildings. I'm on the left there," Jo pointed out.

They parked in front of the apartment. The streets were quiet, and the neighborhood was in the better section of affordable housing for young executives. Natalie was impressed. They exited the car and headed up the dark gray stone steps.

"Nice neighborhood," Natalie wiggled her eyebrows at Jo. "Quite a few steps up from the old one, huh?"

It was said jokingly and Jo noticed the sincere smile on Natalie's face. She jiggled the keys in her hand before finding the right one. The Bronx native was proud of where she was from, but had to admit she didn't miss the constant worry and danger she'd grown up with. She was thankful the firm she worked for had bought a few apartments close to headquarters. She rented hers. Some of her fellow agents had opted to lease to buy.

Jo shrugged. "It's convenient. Pretty close to work." She opened the door. "Sorry, stuffs all over the place. I'm still unpacking."

She was glad Ace wasn't there to harass Natalie. He was at doggy day camp. It was a solution Jo deemed necessary considering the energetic dog was usually worn out by the time she picked him up at five every afternoon. It was the only time she had to take an Uber to travel around the city; the _Harley_ being her usual mode of transportation.

Natalie looked around the spacious apartment. It was nice. The last time she was there Charlie had to talk to her and Tootie outside on the stoop because of Ace trying to escape every five seconds.

The front room was fairly large. There was a nice size kitchen with a peninsula style island with two stools for seating. It suited Jo. Natalie made her way over to the couch and sat down.

"So...where were you the other night?" The reporter asked.

Jo slid a few boxes to the side. "What do you mean?"

Natalie gave Jo an inquiring look. "We came by with your jacket and you weren't here." She paused noticing a shift of green eyes. "Even your dad said he didn't know where you were. I thought you had business for work so we rushed it right over."

Jo tilted her head, brushing off the odd feeling of being interrogated by Natalie. "I went to the store first." _Oh yeah Smooth_.

"Oh." Natalie managed as she watched Jo stack a few of the boxes.

Jo finished stacking four boxes on top of each other then noticed a folded piece of paper on the coffee table. "Huh. Pop's down at the bar."

"I thought he broke his foot?" Natalie queried.

Jo smirked. "Yeah, he probably got his cabby buddy to take him down there." She moved another box into the corner, clearing the way. "He'll probably be down there hanging out until late tonight." She said.

"I see." Natalie smiled.

Jo looked around the front room deciding it was safe enough for her father to maneuver around in without causing him to fall - being on crutches and all.

"I'm just going to get a few papers I forgot for work. Be right back." Jo lied as she moved down the hall toward her bedroom. A few moments later she appeared with several pieces of blank paper and made a point of folding them and stuffing them in her back pocket. "There. Just some old notes I need." She smiled wide.

Natalie nodded, then quirked her lips. "Soooo… your work phone."

"What about it?" Jo eyed her.

"Lost it again?" Natalie's voice held a questioning yet apprehensive tone.

A shrug. "Probably at the office. I'll get it later." She eased her way toward the kitchen. "Want something to drink, Nat?"

Natalie wanted to ask why she was roaming the streets several blocks from her office, but she'd get to that in a minute. _First things first_.

"Got any root beer?"

Jo paused for a moment. "Pop and his buddies brought a bunch of beer and pop the other day." Turning, she ducked her head into the refrigerator.

Natalie drummed her fingers on the couch arm. "Did you try calling it?"

Jo ducked back out. "What?"

"Your phone."

That earned her a glare. "Nat, why are you worried about it. It happens." She ducked back in, pausing then came back up, "…and yeah, of course I called it. Like I said, it's probably at the office." _Let it go Nat._

She took out a slice of left over apple pie before remembering Natalie's diet and put it back on the shelf with a sigh.

"Yeah. Well… Jo, I saw it. Nice phone. Up-to-date. _Charming_ even."

"Nat." Jo placed her hands loudly on the counter top. "No root beer, water ok?"

Natalie nodded. She waited a few beats before clearing her throat. "Ok, here's the thing... "

"Nat."

Natalie ignored her and took a deep breath. "About four months ago a colleague of mine broke a story that involved international espionage." She paused noticing the hard glare from her friend.

"They busted four guys for money laundering; confiscated all kinds of stuff." Natalie said quickly.

"Yeah?" Jo grabbed a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator door. "What's your point?"

"My point is, the police laid all of that stuff out on a table so they could take pictures of everything. The bags of money, the guns, the fake ID's…" Natalie informed.

Jo stiffened, but remained silent.

"They confiscated four phones. Those phones were burner phones, Jo." She paused then swallowed. "They looked just like your phone. Pretty much…identical."

Jo shook her head and chuckled. "Nat, you know what? You've been watching too many of those crime shows."

Natalie pursed her lips. "Are you trying to tell me your phone isn't a burner phone? I saw the front screen and the codes on the back. Two of the phones those guys had were from the secret service. They stole them from an undercover informant. They killed him, Jo."

Her voice sounded alarmed, and Jo tried to calm her friend, if not to diffuse the situation she suddenly found herself in. "Nat, you're just… "

"Don't lie to me!" Natalie's voice held a serious tone.

"You're working yourself up over nothing." Jo tried to reason.

Natalie shook her head defiantly. "Thanks. I know what I saw!"

"Nat, it's just…" Jo sighed, her eyes unwavering as she looked into the scared blue ones of the cub reporter. _Just leave it alone, please_.

"Jo." It was more of a question.

Jo bit her lip pensively, nodding her head slightly. "Ok, ok. You know... I really didn't want it to come out this way."

"You're undercover aren't you?" Natalie held her breath.

Jo stared at her. She was moving her mouth to answer then thought better of it. "Nat."

"Jo, I'm sorry I can't unsee what I saw! Tootie doesn't know a burner from a flip phone, but I do!" Her voice cracked.

Jo swallowed. The water bottle in her hand was cold and chilled her palm almost to the point of making it ache. She looked down at it, unscrewed the top and turned her back as she threw the cap in the trashcan.

"Nat."

Her voice was soft and she moved to the couch, handing the bottle to Natalie, who took a long drink before setting it on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry ok? I just don't want anything to happen to you." Natalie sniffed, then took a deep breath.

Jo ran a hand through her bangs, rustling them; then blew out a breath as she sat on the couch. "I know."

"You can tell me." Natalie fanned herself; the room was feeling hot.

 _No I can't_. "You have to understand, my job is very demanding," Jo supplied. It wasn't a lie. _Not exactly._

Natalie blinked a few times and opened her eyes wide, focusing. "I need you to be honest with me."

Jo watched as Natalie wiped at her suddenly sweaty brow.

"Please." She wiped at her eyes; her vision suddenly becoming blurry. "Jo?"

Jo let out a languished breath. "Yeah, Nat."

"I, uh... Did you… Just…"

Jo calmly watched as Natalie slumped into the cushions. Out cold. She moved to grab her ankles; turning her legs to stretch out comfortably on the plush couch.

She gave Natalie a sorrowful look, and moved a few hair strands off of her face. "Sorry Nat. There just wasn't any other way."

* * *

The office as quiet, save for a few clicks and sighs every few minutes.

Blair sat at her desk facing a large wide screen monitor whisking through several spreadsheets; reviewing last quarter's figures. She had called an impromptu meeting of the executive manager's right after lunch. Three of them sat in front of her, their attention riveted to their pads as they flipped through the various reports in an attempt to keep up with Blair's fast pace.

She pointed to the screen. "So, as you can see, last quarter's numbers don't reflect the cyclical pattern of the last _six_ quarters."

Barry Winsted, Vice President of Marketing, quirked an eyebrow. "But there _have_ been positive earnings during the latter part of the third quarter annually for the past five years. That's the beginning of the busiest time of the year for apparel."

Blair faced the group and tilted her head. "I think we can do better."

"B _etter_ to what degree, Blair? We'd have to budget for greater consumer demand, at least into several of the foreign markets." The short, outspoken head of advertising interjected her point.

Blair nodded. "I totally agree, Emily. That's why I think we should expand production across the board, especially in the eastern regions."

Emily considered the recommendation, slowly nodding her head in agreement as she thought about the possible outcome. The other two executives silently studied their screens.

Blair quietly smiled to herself; satisfied she'd been able to hold her own, for the moment, with the high-powered executives.

She turned and clicked on another screen. "Now if you'll take a look at the financial aspect for _how_ we would account for… "

Her cell phone suddenly vibrated and Blair peeked at the text message: URGENT NEED TO SPEAK WITH YOU NOW OUTSIDE YOUR OFFICE

She stood then blew out a frustrated breath, "One moment. I'm sorry we have to stop here." Blair moved around the desk. "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

The three executives visibly relaxed. They had been at it for over an hour.

Blair moved across the room, a little annoyed at the interruption. She opened the door, finding her father propped up against the secretary's desk with his arms crossed.

She gently pulled her door to, leaving it cracked. "Daddy what is it?" She kept her tone hushed.

David eyed his daughter. "Why didn't you sign Jo in this morning?"

 _Not this_. Blair started to turn back around. "Oversight. I have to get back to… "

"Blair! This is a very important project!" David almost shouted.

"Shhh, Daddy!" Blair pressed a finger to her lips. She saw the look of anger on her father's face. "If it's so important why didn't you bother telling me _she_ was working on it?"

David purposely kept his voice down. "What difference does _that_ make?"

"It makes a difference to _me,_ Daddy," Blair said, slightly exasperated.

David shook his head, bewildered. "Oh… don't tell me you two had an argument."

Blair sighed inwardly. "Daddy, I don't have time for this. It's complicated. Just..." She motioned toward the door. "Let me get back to my meeting."

"Blair, whatever's going on between you and Jo has no bearing on this project. Money's been paid, contracts have been signed," David leveled a stern look at his daughter.

"And you decided to let me know this just now?" Blair crossed her arms.

"No, I told you about the project this morning." David reminded.

"I was swamped this morning, Daddy!" Blair caught herself and lowered her voice.

David lifted an incredulous eyebrow. "So what difference does _that_ make all of a sudden? Didn't you tell me to let you know _everything_?"

Blair stared at her father, momentarily struck silent. She hated feeling perplexed.

David stepped into Blair's personal space, making it a point to look her straight in the eye. He was caught off guard this morning and he'd be damned if he would let anything else go awry.

"You want me to treat you as the _President_ of this company? Well act like it… Be professional!"

It was said bluntly and Blair studied her father for a moment. She hadn't expected that. She prided herself on being professional, if anything. "Fine. No problem. I'll sign her in." She sniffed, her tone was clipped. "What department is she supposed to be working in?"

David took a step back. "Yours. She'll be working with you." He noticed his daughter's eyes widen.

Blair shook her head negatively. "Oh, no, no way, Daddy!"

"Blair… "

She crossed her arms tightly. "I don't have time to babysit."

The CEO scoffed. "Babysit? Blair, she has a _job_ to do. She's supposed to look into the daily operations of the company and report on the responsibilities of the President." David's eyebrows contracted in confusion. "I honestly thought you two would love working together."

Blair was quiet for a moment; she glanced at her father. "There is no way I'm working with her." She said under her breath.

David took a long intake of breath. He was at a loss for words. He almost regretted asking the next question. "Ok, this is obviously something serious, what is it?"

"It's… nothing." Blair grabbed the doorknob. "I have to go."

 _Not so fast_. "Nothing?" David quirked an eyebrow.

"I told you, it's nothing… personal."

"I see." _It's personal._ "Then there shouldn't be a problem."

David gauged his daughter's reaction. Whatever it was, it was something significant. She had thrown Jo out of the building for Christ sake. He'd delve into _that_ later. The urgency of the matter at hand was far more pressing at the moment.

"There is no problem. I just think someone else would be more fitting for her." Blair attempted to explain.

David gave his daughter an incredulous look. "There is no one else more _fitting_ for operations than the President, Blair." _You know this_.

Blair decided not to acknowledge her father's point. "I don't have a personal problem with this project, I just think someone else would be better suited to give her the information she needs," She stated simply.

"Uh huh...I see. Nothing personal." David reiterated. ...c _heck_.

"Absolutely not." Blair's attitude was severely unconvincing.

David leveled a knowing, hard stare at his daughter. "Then I suggest you keep it strictly _business,_ Blair." _… and mate_.

Blair acknowledged the look in her father's eyes. She sucked in a harsh breath. She knew to keep the circumstances of her own _private_ matter private and to fold her hand when dealing with him or, more importantly, the CEO - when the company should be the focal point. She internally grimaced, but nodded her head in acknowledged defeat.

"One day a week for one hour." She decided to at least salvage what little control she had over the situation. It was said tersely and Blair had the nerve to actually lift a brow in defiance.

David blanched at the suggestion. "That's not enough time!" He protested. "Blair that's—"

"Final Daddy! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my meeting." Blair swiftly turned.

He had barely seen the blur of movement, and was only aware of the office door shutting completely as his daughter ended their conversation on _her_ terms.

"Unbelievable." David shook his head then drew out his cell phone and moved toward the elevator. He tapped in a number and listened.

He'd been in the middle of a tricky putt on the third hole when he saw the message from Jo on his phone. Upon retrieving it, he had to cut the game short, potential partnership be damned, and head back to the office.

He had drilled security about the circumstances concerning Jo's badge only to be informed, fifteen minutes later, his one and only eldest daughter was responsible for her unfortunate, and embarrassing, consequences. He'd decided the two of them would have to handle whatever was going on between them. If he had learned anything from being married four times, it was to let the women work out their own differences, and never get in the middle.

David entered the elevator then pushed the floor number as the receiver picked up.

* * *

"Thanks I'll let her know." Eric ended the phone call; looking up as Jo came into his office.

"Agent Polniaczek. Just who I needed to see." He leaned back in his high back, leather office chair.

Jo threw a file onto his desk. "Yeah?"

"Pull the door shut and have a seat." He put the file into his top drawer, picking up her cell phone from the drawer and tossing it to her. "Agent Summers brought it over on her lunch break. Your briefcase is in your office."

"Thanks." Jo caught it then clipped it to the harness on her belt to secure it before taking a seat.

"The meeting with the executive board went well." Eric informed.

Jo nodded. "Yeah, I heard. I just talked with Mendoza."

"David Warner got you cleared with security," Eric pointed out. "He was brief and didn't go into any details, but mentioned Blair. Said I should talk to you about that." He quirked an eyebrow. "You want to tell me what went wrong?"

 _Not really_. "I'm not sure I know," Jo offered. "They had an issue with my badge, codes or whatever." She crossed one leg over the other. "Far as I know everything's fine now."

Eric decided to let the explanation go for the time being. "Except you're behind in work." He stated. "You need to get back over there, Jo."

Jo nodded solemnly. "Yeah, well…"

Eric arched a brow. "Well?"

Jo picked at a loose thread on her slacks, not meeting Eric's eyes. "She, uh… kind of threw me out of the building." Her voice sounded a little hoarse. "You know, before…"

A little surprised, Eric was quiet for a moment. He slowly nodded his head in thought. "Did you give her a reason?"

Jo's head snapped up, a confused look on her face. "I haven't talked to her in nine months!"

"Well there you go." Eric snickered a bit as he watched the incredulous look on his lead agent's face become animated.

He knew the two them had a sort of tumultuous past. Jo had filled him in on the details of some of their most famous arguments over a beer or two after work. He'd usually take Blair's side, if not to play devil's advocate and playfully agitate the hot headed agent.

"Oh come on!" Jo stood up and approached Eric's desk. "I tried to call her, I left messages. She doesn't want to talk to me!"

Eric decided to stifle a snarky retort and instead keep things on an even keel. "Ok, ok. Let's get to the bottom of this." He reasoned.

Jo perched her hip on the side of his desk. "That would be great considering I have to work with her, and right now I feel like giving her a piece of my mind." Jo smirked, feeling more than annoyed and still very much embarrassed.

One of the first training regimens Jo had to endure as a rookie agent was anger management. She'd come a long way in five years. It was important to keep a cool head and not blow your cover in her line of work. Lives depended on it. But right now she felt herself tested by the one person who knew how to get under her skin the best.

Eric decided it was best to diffuse the situation and get to the bottom of the matter; for the sake of the case. "When was the last time you had a decent conversation with Blair."

Jo had to think for a moment. Right before Blair cut her off entirely they'd had a few short conversations, but nothing significant. Each time they had conversed, the time spent was shorter and shorter. Jo had chalked it up to them both being busy.

She shrugged. "I'd say when she and Tootie and Nat visited me in LA a few months ago."

Eric pursed his lips. "Ah, yes, the big day."

Jo cracked a half smile. "Yeah."

"And?"

She thought for a beat. "She seemed to take it well." She shrugged indifferently. "She met Terry and they hit it off." She pointed out simply.

"I remember you told me." He paused. "You're lying."

 _Dammit, how does he do that._ "Alright. She freaked out at the news but she seemed to come around."

"Did she?" Eric remained adamant.

"Yeah. I mean..." Jo thought for a second. "It took her a while to get used to the _new_ me but… yeah."

Eric considered that. He rubbed his chin. "You said your conversations got more tense and short after that."

Jo eyed her superior. "I never said tense; but you know, we got busy. Our jobs... _Life,_ Eric!" She was starting to feel defensive.

A slight frown edged Eric's face. "Don't be so naive. It probably sunk in once she got back to New York. Think about it Jo. You said she slowly started to blow you off."

"I said our conversations got short. We got busy." Jo reiterated, her tone direct.

"Same thing." Eric tried to clarify what his oh so softhearted agent refused to see. "She's blowing you off, Jo."

Jo scoffed. "What, because I came out to her? Blair's not like that. She's open minded, liberal." She thought about how uppity Blair could be. "Kind of."

There was a tap on the door. A brown haired woman poked her head in. "Agent Nelson, there's someone down in the lobby asking for Agent Polniaczek."

"Who is it, Paula?"

"Her name's Natalie Green." The woman pushed up the glasses on her nose.

Eric gave Jo a puzzled look. "What's Natalie doing here?"

Jo shrugged. "I don't know. She gave me a ride home this morning."

Eric thought for a moment, before rising from his desk. "Put her through then show her to the lounge."

He motioned for Jo to follow him. "We'll talk more about this later, c'mon."

They walked down the hall toward the elevator. Neither agent said a word during the ride up to the third floor. Jo was thankful for that. She was actually surprised Natalie had showed up at JTI… and a little worried. She sensed trouble; her sixth sense was kicking her, in fact.

Her hunch was confirmed as they entered the lounge. She looked at the slightly disheveled woman; her face was set in an annoyed expression. She sat in a fold out chair in the middle of the room. Her hair was in a bit of disarray as were her rumpled clothes – jeans and a company tee shirt. Eric noticed her condition, but decided to keep quiet for now.

"Hi Natalie," Jo threw her a forced smile that wasn't returned. "You remember Eric Nelson from JTI?" She motioned to Agent Nelson as they dragged two chairs over to sit in front of the reporter.

Natalie squinted her eyes at him. "Vaguely. You stopped by the house one time to talk to Jo when we were living in Peekskill a few years ago."

Eric nodded. "Nice to see you again." He reached out his hand in greeting.

Natalie ignored the gesture. "Except, I'm not here for a friendly visit." She wore a cross look on her face and Jo internally frowned at the expectation of what may come next. _God, not more questions Nat._

 _"_ Oh?" Eric crossed his arms over his chest, intent on listening to the obviously upset woman. He felt a little out of the loop suddenly, and shifted his eyes back and forth between Jo and her friend.

Natalie made a show of producing her phone, pushing the volume button to its highest peak. She tapped the phone screen. The conversation that took place at Jo's apartment three hours earlier played out; then ended at the point where Natalie had conveniently passed out on the couch.

Jo swallowed and remained still; then closed her eyes, hearing Eric puff out an angry breath. She opened them only to see the bloodshot blue ones of the woman before her staring angrily at her.

"You drugged me to make me forget."

"Natalie." Jo neither confirmed nor denied.

Natalie's face hardened. "What the hell is going on, Jo? And I want the truth!"

Eric abruptly got up, the legs of his chair loudly scraping the floor. "Stop!" His eyes bored into Natalie's. "First, Ms. Green, who do you work for?"

"The New York Times," Natalie blinked at him, slightly confused by the question.

He pinned her with a hardened look. "Job description?"

"I'm a reporter. What does this have to do with anything?" Natalie was becoming irate.

"Natalie," Jo stood up, and only then did Natalie notice for the first time her phone clipped to her belt.

She looked at Jo, a knowing smirk graced her face as she slowly got to her feet. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"Right about what?" Eric asked skeptically. He didn't like where this was heading. Sure he knew Natalie's background, he'd read her file long ago, but she didn't know that. Not _yet_ at least. The recording didn't exactly give them away, but it was only a matter of time.

Natalie kept her eyes on Jo, sensing her discomfort. "You work for the secret service. Don't you."

There. She'd finally asked the burning question. Natalie waited as she watched Jo's face remain unreadable.

That was enough. Eric trained his eyes on the reporter, moving in to her personal space. "Don't." He stopped suddenly. "Ms. Green we are recording everything you say. You are on video surveillance."

Natalie shifted her eyes; they carried a knowing look. "Thanks for letting me know. I figured as much. So what now, more tricks?"

Eric was a bit perturbed by the offhanded replies. He decided to flex his authority. "You have two options, Ms. Green. You can allow us to induce you so that your memory is flushed of the past 3 hours, or you go through protocol." He wanted a reaction, but got none.

Natalie shook her head negatively. "Thanks, I'll skip the drugs, waking up with a splitting headache once today was enough."

Jo frowned, regretful for what she'd put her friend through. "I'm really sorry about that."

"At least you left me a lovely note saying you were going back to work, how thoughtful." Natalie mock laughed.

"Ms. Green, I hope you realize the seriousness of this situation," Eric pressed.

Natalie snapped her eyes to his. "Actually, I have no idea about the situation I've apparently been thrust into without my knowledge. You mind filling me in?" She was growing frustrated, and was frankly tired of spinning her wheels with the two of them.

Eric remained firm. "We don't have a choice at this point. We can't tell you anything until you've gone through protocol," he explained.

"Which is _what_ exactly?" Natalie's brows knitted in confusion.

"We scrub you. Sequester all of your medical records, school records, police records, your phone. Then you sign papers for confidentiality purposes," Jo chimed in.

 _Well damn_. Natalie felt an overwhelming feeling of dread come over her. Perhaps in her quest for the truth, she had indeed overstepped her boundaries this time. "I guess this _is_ pretty serious." Fearful eyes found Jo's remorseful ones.

Jo gave her friend an apologetic look. Everything, at this point, was indeed out of her hands.

Eric walked over to a small intercom on the wall and punched in a few numbers. "Paula? I need you to take Ms. Green down to protocol. Thanks."

He turned and addressed Natalie. "This will take about an hour, then you'll come back up here and we'll talk."

Natalie gave him a sickly smile. _Swell_.

"Nat," Jo felt the need to apologize again. "I didn't mean for—"

"Me to record our conversation?" Natalie shook her head. "Yeah, well, if I had known what I do now." She chuckled bitterly. "I guess it's just the reporter in me."

A few moments later Natalie was escorted from the room and taken down to protocol.

Eric turned to his best agent, his eyes flashed dangerously and his mouth was tight with anger. "My office." He managed between gritted teeth.

It was a growl and Jo could tell it was barley restrained, at that. She followed him to the elevators in silence. The ride was tense and she dared not even breathe too loud.

They entered Eric's office a few moments later. Eric swiftly moved to stand behind his desk. "Close the door."

Jo did as she was told, then took a seat. She braced for the incoming blast.

"What the hell was that, agent?!" Nelson's face was beet red.

Jo took a deep breath and kept her head down. "She's going to be a damn good reporter." She muttered. Her attempt to lighten the situation was predictably ignored. The flash of angry eyes she got in return indicated no patience.

"How much does she know?"

Jo shrugged. "My cover, that's all." _Wrong answer_.

"That's all? Christ, Jo! You've got to get your head on straight! You're back in town now, what... two weeks? You're back around your friends and family." Eric leaned on the desk his hands firm on the desktop, eyes boring into Jo's. "Things have changed. You can't lose track of your job!"

"I didn't lose track of my job!" Jo bit back. She felt defensive. She'd done everything right this morning, that is until she stepped foot into The Warner building. How was she supposed to know certain people would find it necessary to throw a monkey wrench in her plans, especially by throwing her out of a very important meeting… and building.

Eric shook his head, his eyes never leaving Jo's. "Whatever the hell happened between you and Blair, you need to get control of it!"

Jo shook her head in defiance. "This has nothing to do with her! I'm doing my job, Eric!" She retorted. She took a deep breath and wondered how the hell she arrived at this point anyway.

Eric tore his eyes from Jo's and started to pace. "You should've taken further precautions when you used a code 6 on Green." He stopped and pointed at her. "You didn't secure the area! That includes checking her phone!" He slapped his desk top causing Jo to jump in surprise.

"I— "

"Damn it! She was one step ahead of you! What the hell were you thinking?!"

Jo sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. She didn't really have an answer. She was usually extremely disciplined. "I guess I wasn't." She said softly.

It was the truth; the weight of it all bothering her. Since when did she let something like that slip?

Eric finally sat down, still feeling agitated by the sudden state of affairs.

"Jo, you are one of my best inside agents. I need you on this case, but you have _got_ to focus on the situation. We can't afford these kinds of mistakes."

He was adamant and took in the slightly distraught look on Jo's face. "Get over to Warner Textiles and fix this thing, whatever it is, with Blair."

Jo kept silent and nodded.

"And keep your cool. You're an agent in high esteem with a job to do first and foremost." Eric reminded.

Jo broke her silence. "But she humiliated me!"

Eric smirked at her. Jo was always impulsive when it came to something or someone threatening her honor. This was no different. They had worked on this in the past. Whenever someone offended her, she had to learn to tame her temper for the sake of the case.

"The two of you are adults now, Jo. Act like it and get me the information I need to solve this case without blowing your cover." Eric pointedly eyed her. "I'm counting on you."

Jo looked into the eyes of her superior. "Ok. I will." She cooled her attitude. "It won't happen again." It was stated with firmness and finality.

Eric studied her for a moment; he sensed Jo was probably angry and embarrassed by the slip up, but this was a very serious matter and she wasn't a rookie anymore. He decided go forward, and put the situation behind them for now. There was nothing they could do to fix it, other than keep tabs on Natalie Green.

"Alright," Eric conceded as he leaned back in his chair. He clasped his hands together and intertwined his fingers.

"Summers and Mendoza reported back from this morning. They were able to get into marketing and financials. Both divisions are clear."

Jo exhaled, glad for the change of subject and sat on the edge of her chair upon hearing the new information. "That leaves operations. We got eyes up?"

Eric nodded. "Surveillance is in all key areas."

"Good." Jo pursed her lips. "Shouldn't be hard to get the info we need."

Eric picked up a pencil from his desk and pointed it directly at Jo. "Get in there and let me know what we're up against."

Jo nodded, then got to her feet. She reached down and checked for her phone, the device still secured to her belt harness.

She moved toward the door and reached for the knob in thought; then looked over at Eric. "What are you feeling on this?"

Eric rubbed his chin before moving his glance to meet Jo's questioning eyes. He cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow.

"Russell Warner hid something volatile."

* * *

The room seemed colder than previously. The now very humbled reporter entered, a little more tentatively than before.

Eric gestured toward the chair, once again, in the center of the room. "Ms. Green, have a seat."

Natalie walked softly toward the chair, eyeing it. "I feel so violated."

Jo winced a little as Natalie passed by her. "Sorry about that, Nat... It was necessary."

Natalie glanced at Jo as she took a seat. "Still doesn't make me feel any better."

Eric stood in front of her, his legs and feet planted wide and held the eyes of the reporter.

"Ms. Green, Agent Polniaczek and I are federal agents with the Information Technology division of investigations, secret service. JTI is our cover company however, it _is_ very much a functioning educational software company."

 _Agents. Knew it._ Natalie's eyes were wide. "Intriguing and slightly confusing. Go on."

Eric continued. "We are working on a case that involves highly classified information. In order for your safety to be maintained we had to seize all of your personal information."

Natalie interrupted him. "I still don't see why my knowing about Jo's position puts me at risk for anything."

Eric held up a hand. "Your knowing that Jo is an agent puts _her_ life in danger, which in turn could potentially put millions of lives in danger should her cover be blown. Or in this case, _our_ covers."

He let that sink in for a bit, noticing the reporter swallow nervously a few times at the new information.

"I would never do that." It was barely a whisper.

Eric nodded once. "You're a reporter. You have to sign contracts involving informants and freedom of the press?"

"Yes." Natalie answered guardedly.

"I can assure you, that has now been overridden Ms. Green." Eric told the reporter.

Natalie opened her mouth in surprise. "Wait a minute! What are you saying?"

"You are now an informant of the secret service. You may keep your job, but you are not allowed to report on anything concerning any government agency, federal, state or local."

Eric watched Natalie struggle with the new revelation. He suspected the reporter was having trouble realizing just how much her life was about to change.

"But… that's not fair!" She finally got out.

He ignored the outburst. "You may not use this knowledge in any way, shape or form, including blackmail, or consequences will be enforced."

Natalie looked at Jo, alarmed. "What does that mean?"

Jo cocked a brow. "You can't threaten to expose us if we tick you off." She stated simply.

Natalie's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Oh. So what are the consequences?" she asked.

"Life in prison."

A lone finger went up as a light bulb turned on. "Noted."

It would be another hour before the final screws were put to the reporter. She had been informed, warned and mildly threatened before they let her leave JTI. They returned her phone, completely wiped; then Jo escorted her out of the building.

They walked along the sidewalk, finally reaching Natalie's car, which was parked crookedly on the street in front of the building. The parking meter had long since expired and there was a parking ticket under the windshield wiper. Jo plucked it, promising to take care of it.

Natalie got in and started the motor, then turned her window down. "So what now?"

Jo sighed. "Go back to work. Report on kids with stolen bikes and Pokémon cards."

"You got anything else? That vaguely sounds like my life," Natalie scowled.

Jo chuckled wistfully, wishing like hell she hadn't called Natalie to pick her up this morning.

"You know, Nat, you have until ten thirty tomorrow morning if you change your mind. We can wipe it all out for you." She leveled a serious gaze at her friend.

Natalie thought for a moment, contemplating the outcome; then slowly shook her head. "Sounds tempting, but I think I may just keep all my marbles for now."

It was said with a shaky breath and Jo waited a few beats to see if she would just decide to go for it after all.

"Well, if you change your mind... "

Natalie nodded understanding, not able shake the sense of doom that was slowly engulfing her. "Great. I'll never get out of the hole." She muttered then put the car in drive and righted it.

"Bye, Jo."

"Bye, Nat." Jo stood and watched as the small car made its way into traffic, then turned and walked back into the building. There was business to attend to.

* * *

It was quiet on the 39th floor. The soft knock was barely audible, but the blonde haired President had heard it.

"Come in." Blair looked up from her computer screen, blinking several times. Her eyes were trying to focus after starring at the numbers of her latest report for _far_ too long.

The door slowly swung open to reveal the dark haired agent. She carried a dark brown soft leather brief case, and took a few steps in, the carpet muting her steps. Her eyes wandered around the spacious office, then finally landed on the startled woman sitting behind the desk across the room.

"You didn't have anybody out there, so I uh…," Jo gestured toward the empty desk in the lobby area.

Blair stopped her actions cold. She set her mouth in a tight clench. "What are you doing here?"

Jo took a few more steps into the office, letting the door shut behind her. "Nice to see you too, Blair, seeing as we didn't really get off to a good start this morning."

She leveled a sharp, no nonsense glare at Blair then moved closer to her desk and stood just on the other side, not bothering to sit down in one of the chairs situated before her. She remembered her conversation earlier with Eric about keeping her cool.

Blair leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest almost defensively. "I repeat, what are you doing here?"

"My job. I was hired by _your_ company." Jo almost shouted.

It had been one hell of a day and there was a dire situation at hand. _Come on Blair drop the act_. _Neither one of us needs this._

Blair peered at the woman in front of her. "I see. What do you want?" It was said smoothly... and coldly, Jo noted, and she scoffed at the question.

"Well, for starters, Blair, for you to _not_ treat me like I'm a perfect stranger!"

Blair ignored the reply and blinked at her long time friend. "What is this project about?" She switched off her note pad.

It was a decidedly purposeful dodge... Blair resorted to deliberately checking her watch a few times.

 _Unbelievable._ Jo gritted her teeth together. "You know, I think I'll ask the questions before we get started." Her voice was strained.

Blair smirked at her. "Make it quick. I have a meeting in ten minutes."

 _Right._ Jo shoved her briefcase down on the chair seat. _Scre_ w _procedure._ "What the hell was with that little stunt you pulled this morning?!"

"Obviously, I'm not in the mood to see you." Blair's voice was even, the tone guarded and a little sarcastic. She didn't even bat an eye as she stood up and smoothly reached over the desk to pick up a handful of files.

Jo almost barked out a laugh at the explanation. She squinted her eyes, watching as Blair stuffed her designer briefcase with her pad and several files. It was all she could do to control the rising anger.

The agent put her hands on her hips, briefly closing her eyes to gather herself. "So, you just humiliate me in front of everybody?"

Blair continued packing her briefcase without sparing Jo the slightest glance.

Jo huffed a breath. _Dammit look at me!_ "My God, Blair, we haven't communicated in almost a year!"

Blair merely spared her a look, and then checked her watch again. "I've been busy. You have nine minutes."

 _You have nine minutes_. Jo mocked the blonde in her head. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, opting to keep her temper under control. _Remember your training_.

"Why are you mad at me?"

The question hung in the air. The whirling discs of the air conditioner pushing the cool air through the vents was the only sound between them for several moments. Blair had paused her motion for a few seconds then swallowed and busied herself with finishing her task.

"I told you, I've been busy." She quickly glanced at the now angry expression on Jo's face.

"That's not an answer."

Blair made a point to dismiss Jo's retort as she turned and faced the pensive agent. "Either tell me what this project is about, and I'll decide what I will or will not go along with, or our time here is finished and you can show yourself out of my office."

It was a solid reply really; tactful, true, and quite belittling. Blair closed her briefcase and moved to the other side of the desk to face Jo, fully aware of squinted green eyes following her every move.

Jo tried to quell the feeling of being stung by Blair's words. She stuffed it down and counted to ten in her head; then ultimately decided to go along with it. She sensed this was not the time to hash out whatever issues they had with one another.

 _Alright_. She lifted her chin, determined not to let Blair's words affect her. "My colleagues and I are building a capstone for business majors in college. The bottom line is, I'm supposed to ask you questions about your job, tasks and retrieve information on the financial aspect of your day-to-day operations."

 _There_. Clean and to the point.

Blair placed her briefcase on the other chair beside Jo. "That sounds highly intrusive. You mean to tell me my uncle agreed to go along with this?" she quirked a doubtful eyebrow.

"Yes. And I'm... very sorry about your… "

"Save it." Blair kept her focus. "I seriously doubt he would allow you to look at our financial status." Brown eyes bored into green as she took a step closer to Jo.

Jo met the brown eyes. "It's nothing that isn't already public, Blair. Anyone can Google your margins online. I'm just seeing them day-to-day, so that the capstone will be more like real life. It's the only way students can understand your position and what you do." She pointed out.

The look Jo received was one of suspicion. Blair tossed her hair a bit. "So, what you're saying is you have to follow me around all day." Blair flicked her eyes to Jo's blazer then back up.

The brunette shook her head negatively. "I know that would be irritating. I have questions I ask you, then I look at the operating spread sheets."

"Daily."

Jo paused for a moment. "Well, yes and no."

A head tilt. "Explain."

 _What am I on trial?_ "I need about three to four days here and the other days I work in my office to build the project."

Blair thought about that. "I see. So you need to be here for how long on a daily basis?"

Jo shrugged. "Maybe three hours or so."

Blair nodded. "I can squeeze you in after 1:30 p.m. starting tomorrow." She picked up her briefcase and moved toward the door. "You can report to me then." She tossed back at Jo.

 _Squeeze me in?_ "Alright." Jo watched as the blonde reached the door, her perfume wafting behind her; Jo got a nose full.

Blair turned around and pinned Jo with a questioning look. "How long are you going to be here?"

Brown brows knit in confusion. "You mean for the project or in New York?

"Until your part is over."

Jo moved to join Blair at the door _. "_ I need about two months worth of information. The capstone is for a semester course." She informed. She noticed the slight shift in Blair's eyes as she got closer.

"Fine." A well-manicured hand gripped the doorknob.

Jo nodded in confirmation. "Well Ok then. I… "

Blair yanked the door open. "Tomorrow. I have a meeting remember?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Ok. Tomorrow it is. Look, Blair… "

"See you tomorrow." It was said with finality, and with that the President of Warner Textiles stepped out into the lobby, leaving agent Polniaczek alone in her office. The door was briskly shut, the air stirring from it squarely hitting Jo in the face, moving the bangs around on her forehead.

Jo stood there for a moment, staring at the door. _What the hell was that about?_ She shook it off, then tapped the back of her ear _. "_ You there?"

" _Yep_. _Got all eyes on the executive areas, elevators, bathrooms..."_ There was a pause _. "What did you do to her now?"_ Jo heard the slight chuckle at her expense.

 _"Me?"_ Jo grunted her response, not amused.

She moved toward Blair's desk, noticing the mountain of paper work. She quickly flipped through the papers on top, noting they were just routine documents.

" _She's pissed._ " Agent Nelson had flicked on the elevator monitor and watched as Blair road the elevator down to the executive offices on the 30th floor. She was pacing back and forth.

"Yeah, I got that." Jo assessed the computer, checking the brand. She plucked a pen from the desk and borrowed a piece of paper to take down the serial number.

 _"Looks like she's almost in tears."_

Jo stopped her actions at Eric's words and took in a breath. He didn't have to say anything; she could hear the implied question.

"She still won't talk to me so... " She wrote down the number then tucked the paper into the front pocket of her briefcase.

Eric waited a few beats. " _Perimeter's secure. No cameras in the office. Three in the lobby there, two in the elevators…"_

No doubt Russell had them taken out of his office, Jo reasoned. She looked at his desktop computer. "I can't log on without blowing my cover. She has to do it."

 _"When is she coming back?"_

"I have no idea." Jo quickly moved toward the door.

 _"Ok, first thing tomorrow. Ah, there you are_." Jo came in to view as she stepped out into the lobby area.

 _"Get into the main programs. We need to get a handle on what we're up against as far as breaking through security_ ," Eric instructed. " _No doubt Warner has a deep-ass firewall,"_ he said.

"Roger." Jo punched the down arrow and waited for the elevator. She peered down the hall. Two doors down was the vice president of marketing, and across the hall, the vice president of finance. It was quiet; their doors were closed. _Probably at the meeting_.

Jo reminded herself not to talk too loud or suspiciously, even though it appeared no one was around. She was sure she wasn't exactly in the good graces of building security. They saw her and watched her every move.

She checked her watch. "I have to pick up Ace in thirty minutes." She mumbled. She held her head down as she spoke, careful not to look like a crazy woman as she entered the elevator. She punched in her number and road the metal box down to the main lobby.

 _"He needs to get laid_."

Jo cracked a grin then rolled her eyes. She settled to the back of the elevator, leaning her head back on the cold steel wall.

".. _.and apparently you need to mend some fences_."

She quirked her lips at Eric's suggestion. She was deep in thought as the elevator pinged and the doors opened. Jo sighed as she exited, swiftly making her way out of the building.

* * *

The car hit a bump, jostling the blonde inside of it. Hamilton, her driver, had apologized for nailing the pothole. She waved a weary hand in acknowledgement and stared blankly out the window. The sun was nearing twilight, the grey sky echoing her somber mood. Drops of fresh rain had streamed down the flat surface, resembling a row of teardrops. She traced one of them as it slowly made its way down, dissolving once it hit the bottom of the window.

Blair exhaled. She was glad the day was over. She had been so nervous during her first executive meeting. Her father had told her to take a deep breath and slow down as she outlined her plans for the first quarter projections.

She mentioned the warehouses being burned down in Tokyo, and noticed the surprised looks of seven of the executives, the other three hardly blinked at the news. That had been momentarily troubling, but her father had quickly stepped in explaining they had no leads yet and that the board would be kept abreast of any new developments.

It was tricky, and she sensed sneaky, the way her father had changed the subject. She decided to delve into the matter on her own, later, when she wasn't so tired and could focus.

The car took another sharp turn, probably avoiding another pothole. One would think the Upper East Side could afford better roads. Blair shifted in her seat. Her thoughts went back to the meeting. Several of the members had told her how much they believed in her abilities. The pats on the back felt expected, empty, and nothing special since it was her job, _after all_ , to guide the company forward.

The formal announcement of her position had taken place at 5 p.m. They had gathered in the lobby where there was a small podium and invited the press. Her father proudly handed over the reins of responsibility before a spectacle of cameras, reporters and employees. Blair, of course, had been groomed since birth to handle these situations, and put on a display of control, gratefulness and professionalism.

She looked down at her phone as yet another well-wisher pinged her twitter and Facebook feeds. She turned it off and rested her head on the back of the seat. The limousine continued its trek down the familiar streets of the upper crust. The restaurants, boutiques and department stores became blurry as she slowly closed her eyes. The day had been extremely trying, and Blair wondered just how many roller coasters she'd ridden and survived.

* * *

 _Harperio's Restaurant had been a like a needle in a haystack to find. It was practically in an alley in downtown Los Angeles. The dimly lit Italian restaurant was surprisingly elegant. Once they had landed at LAX and securely checked in to their hotel room, the three of them had been given directions to meet Jo there for dinner._

 _Upon arrival, they were quickly escorted to their table. Blair made a quick scan of the room, and found the familiar head of dark hair bent down examining a menu in earnest. She quirked a small smile, then let it falter a bit as she noticed the blonde sitting at the table with Jo... and just how close they were positioned, especially since it was a table set for six._

 _Jo had formally introduced Blair, Tootie and Natalie to her friend, Terry. They had been colleagues, both new to JTI when they arrived in Los Angeles four years ago._

 _During dinner Blair had made a mental list of the blonde's attributes, including her wardrobe. It was quite average. The woman wore a simple cotton dress, definitely not haute couture, simple jewelry and heels that managed to match a few of the colors in her dress._

 _She was small, probably several inches shorter than Jo. She seemed to have an average body. Her nails were short, but painted nonetheless._

 _Blair sniffed, then sipped her wine. She let her eyes roam the restaurant as she did so. When they'd rested on the blonde, she had given her a tight smile._

 _Conversation had been steady throughout dinner, and they were presently waiting for dessert to arrive._

 _Jo smirked. Blair smiled what seemed like an extra toothy smile at her companion for the twentieth time that night. It seemed every time she spoke to the woman it was with that strained, tense expression. She inhaled a breath and bit off a bread stick, chewing it as she noticed Blair winding up for another round of interrogation._

 _"Sooo, Mary..."_

 _"Terry." Jo corrected under her breath._

 _"Of course," Blair amended. "I don't think I quite caught how you and Jo came to be friends."_

 _The blonde was caught a little off guard at the question and let out a nervous laugh before looking to Jo for reassurance. Blair noticed the silent conversation between them. It intrigued her, her eyes switching back and forth between the two. She noticed the gentle hand rub and nod from Jo. Blair knitted her brows at the sight._

 _"Well," Terry gave a glance to each of her dinner guests. "Jo and I met at JTI and we, um, hit it off."_

 _Tootie quirked a suspicious eyebrow. "Hit it off?"_

 _The blonde blushed and looked down, suddenly shy. "We, uh... "_

 _"She's my girlfriend." Jo supplied._

 _There._

 _It was out. No more tiptoeing around the elephant._

 _There was a moment of silence before Natalie spoke. "Wow! That, that's... "_

 _"Shocking," Tootie blurted. She looked around the table. Jo had raised an eyebrow at her response. Natalie was obviously trying to process the new information while Blair sat motionless and speechless, save for several blinks._

 _Jo smiled gently at her girlfriend. She was proud of the fact that she could be open about their relationship, finally. She felt the tenseness and overwhelming stress wash away from her. Telling her closest friends was just a step; her parents being the very next. She'd decided to tell her father later on that night._

 _Tootie cracked a smile. "Well, what do you know?" She chuckled. She raised her glass of sparkling cider. "Here's to Jo and… "_

 _"Excuse me." There was the loud scraping of chair legs as Blair suddenly dismissed herself from the table and adamantly made a beeline for the ladies room._

 _Jo watched as the blonde quickly disappeared behind the partition. She felt a sense of bewilderment overtake her for a moment. She knew her announcement wouldn't go as smoothly as she'd hoped, but..._

 _"I'll be right back." Jo gave everyone an apologetic smile as she quickly moved to_ ward _the ladies room._

 _The table_ w _as silent for a few moments. "Well, that was rude," Natalie smiled at Terry, patting her hand reassuringly. "I'm sure Blair will be alright."_

 _Terry nodded her smile faltering a bit. "I'm sure." She felt a little out of sorts without Jo beside her, but the three eventually settled in to a pleasant banter._

* * *

 _Jo found Blair bent over a sink gently wringing the water out of a soft towel the restaurant had provided. She straightened only to find the brunette standing squarely behind her reflection in the mirror. She turned and pursed her lips._

 _Jo crossed her arms and waited._

 _Blair took a step to the side, patting her face and neck. She spared another glance at Jo. "You're mad."_

 _A bro_ w _n eyebrow quirked. "Why would I be?"_

 _Blair tossed her hair and let out a puff. "Because." She stopped, not quite finding the right words. She deposited the rag in the container provided._

 _Jo just stood there a_ w _aited. She was still, stock still, and Blair felt like she was trapped in a spot light as another patron entered the restroom._

 _"I'm gay, Blair. Is that a problem for you?"_

 _"Shhh!" Blair pulled on Jo's arm. Glaring, Jo snatched it back. "Would you just... please!"_

" _Blair this is California!" Green eyes flashed anger._

 _Blair returned the look then moved to turn on the cold water from three sinks at full tap, the noise causing a scene as two more patrons entered the restroom._

 _"Would you stop that?!" Jo turned off the taps and leveled a look at Blair. The blondes eyes_ w _ere constantly roaming around the room._

 _"Blair, this is California and it's 2015. Probably half the women that come in here are gay." Jo stated._

 _Blair noticed one of the women snicker at the statement as she washed her hands. She blushed a full red hue from her hairline down to her neck._

 _There was a small sitting room around the corner, and Blair nodded toward it. Jo rolled her eyes and followed her uptight companion._

 _A middle-aged woman dressed in a full maid's uniform was attending the room. She offered them both a bowl of mints, which was politely turned down._

 _"You mind telling me what happened out there?" Jo asked, her temper was starting to get the best of her._

 _Blair took a deep breath. "I just… wasn't quite expecting that."_

 _Jo backed off at the explanation. She didn't particularly know how each one of her ex-roommates would receive the news of her sexuality, but she figured Blair would have something to say about it... she always did._

 _A jab perhaps, a snicker or a dig maybe. But not what had happened five minutes ago. Pure silence and a dash out was not how Blair Warner handled hard news._

 _"Look, Blair, I know that was out of left field." Jo noticed the slight smile at the pun. "I just needed you to know. It's important to me that I can be open with you guys."_

 _Blair pursed her lips; silently nodding her head. "I see. So all those years we were living together… you couldn't have said something then?"_

 _Blair frowned at Jo, obviously not quite comfortable with the revelation._

 _Jo let out a frustrated breath. She ran a few fingers through her bangs. "No. Yes. I, I j-just." She stopped and gathered her thoughts. "I wasn't ready then...to let anyone kno_ w _."_

 _Silence for a moment, then. "I see." Blair sucked in her cheeks. "Then I guess we're even."_

 _Jo noticed the brown eyes looking intently at her were quite serious. They were unwavering, unblinking and seemed to connect something within her for a fleeting moment… Point taken._

 _She studied the blonde heiress for a second, giving her a half smile. "I guess so." Jo rang her hands together nervously. " …cause no_ w _you know." A nervous smile and chuckle._

 _Blair took a step to_ w _ard Jo then stopped. "Yeah I do, don't I." She licked her lips looking at the floor for a second then back up into steady green eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper_. _"Jo, I need to tell y—"_

 _"Blair you don't have to say anything. Really." Jo stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I_ w _ould rather_ w _e just drop it for no_ w _ok?" Her voice held a nervous tinge._

 _Blair released a breath muttering. "It's just that I—"_

 _"So now what?" Jo noticed the restroom had emptied out. She looked directly at Blair,_ _who had just barely made out the question._

 _Blair noticed the questioning look on the brunette's face before she realized she was staring. "No, I mean y-yes, absolutely! I mean… you're right. This really isn't the place for discussing…" She trailed off smiling weakly. "That."_

 _Jo gave her blonde companion a rueful smirk. "Yeah well… We probably should get back out there. There's no telling ho_ w _Terry's fairing with the dynamic duo…probably 20 questions on steroids." She stated_ w _ryly._

 _Blair let out a chuckle then nodded uneasily. She gathered herself together then thought for a minute before placing a soft hand on Jo's back. "We'll go back out there and tell Mary the most embarrassing stories about your years at Eastland and Langley while you sit there and take it." A toothy smile._

 _Jo blanched at the thought then gave Blair a glaring side eye. The blonde snorted giving her old friend a shove. "Go ahead, I'll be right out."_

 _Jo nodded, taking a few steps, then turned around. "Uh, Blair?"_

 _A blonde brow lifted. "Yes?"_

 _"Her name's Terry."_

 _"Ah, right, Terry. Got it." Blair plastered on a bright smile._

 _Jo smiled at the blonde one last time before rounding the corner and exiting the restroom._

 _Blair let out a breath, her smile fading as she slumped against the counter. She placed a hand on her stomach and closed her eyes taking in a much-needed gulp of air. She could feel her heartbeat._

 _"Don't give up, Chiquita."_

 _Brown eyes snapped open. She'd forgotten the woman was there. She had been quietly reading a book... and eavesdropping from the looks of it._

 _Blair smoothed her hair in place and nervously pulled at her pencil skirt. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." That was followed with a no nonsense glare._

 _The woman smirked then moved her feather duster over the surface of the countertop. "Amor, querida. Love."_

 _Blair stared at the woman who went on doing her job with a faint smile on her lips. She watched as the motions of the feathers lightly stroked the surface. She bit her lip for a moment before looking over her reflection in the mirror._

 _She had dressed for dinner, after Jo had told them where to meet. Her top was silk; tight. The first two buttons were undone, the tops of her generous cleavage cleverly displayed. Her skirt was form fitting; well above the knee. Her heels were high and she knew her calf muscles were getting a real workout from them._

 _Blair closed her eyes and sighed. She had dressed for..._

 _Deft fingers slowly buttoned the top buttons of her blouse. She swallowed then gave the woman a smile. Plucking a mint from the bowl, she politely dropped a fifty dollar bill in it before turning on her heel._

 _"Have a wonderful evening." She tossed over her shoulder as she exited the restroom._

 _What a difference nine month's make._

"Miss Warner we are three blocks from your residence." The car slowed as it stopped at a red light.

Brown eyes cracked open as they tried to focus. _Must've dozed off_. "Um, yes. Thank you, Hamilton."

Blair observed her surroundings while rubbing her eyes, careful of her eyeliner. She yawned. "Hamilton, stop at the next block, please."

A grayish eyebrow lifted in the rear view mirror. "As you wish, Miss Warner." The car came to a soft stop as the driver pulled up to the curb right outside of a dry cleaner's.

"I'll be walking the rest of the way. I need to clear my head." Blair announced.

Hamilton nodded, then exited the car to open the passenger side back door. Blair stepped out, briefcase in hand. She noted the weather, it was a little misty, but the rain had stopped momentarily, and she thought she'd take advantage of it.

"It's a lovely night for a walk, don't you think, Hamilton?" She smiled at her favorite driver. His graying head was under a polished cap, which he tipped before winking at the blonde. He had been her driver since she was ten years old.

"Sure is." Came the reply.

He closed the door then got back in the car. Blair knew he would follow her up the street, the doorman to her penthouse almost within view two blocks away.

Blair tipped her head back and closed her eyes as she took in a lungful of air. It always smelled the best after a good rain, even in the city. The mist of the remnants of the storm coating her face and hands. She welcomed it; didn't mind it one bit as she walked along the sidewalk.

She reached her residence, waving to her driver as he smiled before driving off.

"Evening, Miss Warner." The doorman opened the door for her as she touched his arm in greeting. She walked into the lobby and approached the front desk for her mail.

The concierge handed her a several envelopes, which she thanked him for, then fingered through as she approached the elevator.

"Oh, I almost forgot, Miss Warner, your guest arrived an hour ago!" he yelled after her as the doors to the elevator were shutting.

Blair thought for a moment. "My guest?" The steel box jerked then carried her up the floors to her penthouse digs.

Still perplexed, Blair stuffed her mail in the side pocket of her briefcase then keyed her door, only to be hit with the aroma of Italian cuisine. The garlic was strong. She stepped through the door and set her briefcase down while looking around her apartment.

"Hello… Meg?"

There was a loud jangling of pots in the kitchen then a head peeked out from under the countertop. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

Blair watched as the brunette came closer.

"You gave me a key, remember?" She gestured towards an elegantly set table by the window, complete with chilled wine in a bucket, designer dinnerware and candlelight. Blair was momentarily struck silent.

"I wanted to celebrate your first day as President." A soft smile.

Blair allowed herself to be pulled toward the table. A smile making its way to her lips as she looked into the twinkling eyes of her companion.

She let out a breathy sigh then spoke softly. "Thank you, Amanda."

* * *

Thanks for hanging in here with me. Buckle your seatbelts folks, bumpy rides, twitst and turns ahead!


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi everyone! Thanks so much for hanging in there with me after a brief hiatus. I'm back and ready to see where our ladies take us on their journey.**

 _Just some brief chapter notes:_

 _1.) Madison's Restaurant is totally made up for this piece._

 _2.) Westerfield Park...maybe somewhere there's a Westerfield Park, but for the sake of this story, it's made up too._

 _3.) Villa Manzi Gallery. I have no idea if there is a gallery out there with this name, but I totally made this up._

 _4.) Grammerson Playhouse Theater - a fictitious place somewhere in the NYC theater district. Yep. Fake, lol._

 _As always, I appreciate you, your patience and your feedback. It really keeps me going._

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Daybreak. Nightfall. They both virtually look the same if you're not paying attention to the clock.

Long white bands of steam slowly curled upwards from the rooftops of the gray buildings. The air barely stirred so early in the morning as Blair stood in front of the penthouse windows. Her white silk bed robe was tied tightly around her waist. There was a sigh. Brown eyes gazed at nothing in particular. It was something she often did when her mind was busy. When she needed to think about her next strategy or to figure things out.

 _When she couldn't sleep_.

She took a sip from a steaming cup of tea, flicking disheveled hair from her eyes every now and then.

There was rustling from the kitchen as Gigi's clawed feet clacked on the tiled floor. She was looking for Blair. "Yip, yip!" Blair cracked a smile before she picked up the small dog. She had just been groomed the day before, her shiny coat getting a good fluffing from her mistress. That earned several satisfied whines as Gigi licked high cheekbones and a chin appreciatively.

Blair giggled at the attention, then set the dog down; holding Gig's front legs as she walked along the floor on her hind legs. "That's a good girl, good girl, Gigi!" A pink tongue lapped out, wagging at the effort. "Yip! Yop! Yop! Yip!"

Blair released the front paws as Gigi balanced on her hind legs – looking like a show dog. She laughed, then clapped as Gigi barked with each step; finally getting tired as she reached the edge of the windows.

Bending down, Blair picked up her prize pet and hugged her; rubbing her nose in the soft fur. She hummed contentedly hearing the soft pants of the tired dog. "Good girrrl."

"Blair?"

Blair turned before releasing Gigi, who scampered off down the hall to her little room.

She glanced up into sleepy eyes. "Did I wake you?"

The brunette shook her head, making her way over to Blair. Amanda made a quick examination of the blonde. Last night she'd fallen into bed fast asleep before her head even hit the pillow, then up hours later before the crack of dawn.

"Are you alright?"

Blair nodded. "Thank you for dinner. I hadn't even thought about eating." She admitted.

Yesterday had been a whirlwind. Being president carried a weight Blair hadn't figured into her personal plan of _reign_ … not that she had an iron clad one to begin with; just one that didn't include a multitude of problems from the very start.

She thought about her predicament: two burned down warehouses, unaccounted for, an obstinate cousin out to ruin her career and an unwanted project.

She sniffed indifferently. She had overheard the quiet conversations. The critical jabs about her ability to 'carry' the company. The sly remarks about her age and the fact that she was practically handed her position. _Those things don't matter, you're a Warner_ – her father had reminded her for the thousandth time.

And then there was her personal life.

She took in the dark haired woman before her. Her makeup was pretty much all gone; hair disheveled and all over her head. Eyes squinting and slowly focusing at the gradually brightening room as the sun started to peak over the edges of the buildings. She was wearing one of Cliff's old tee-shirts; the bottom of it barely covering the tops of her thighs. _She still looks pretty_.

Blair sighed and gave Amanda a thoughtful smile. "Thank you for staying, you didn't have to." Whispered softly, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Amanda reached out and laid a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder, gently massaging the muscle she found there. "I wanted to."

Blair smiled and patted the hand. She moved out of the embrace then made her way to the kitchen, failing to notice the questioning expression of her companion.

"Is it something I said?" Amanda sat in one of the chairs at the counter.

"Hmm?" Blair washed her cup out and set it on the counter top.

"Blair, what's wrong?"

A brow dipped slightly. Blair approached Amanda, leaning on the counter. "Why would you ask me that?"

"You just seemed a little… _off_ last night." Amanda tried not to let her words unsettle the blonde. She smiled to diffuse the impact.

"I see." Blair twisted her lips.

"I meant, not yourself."

Blair paused, not quite knowing how to answer. She numbly nodded and moved her focus to the rapidly brightening view outside. She watched as the creeping sun found the crevices of each building's sharp angles and flat planes.

"What's wrong?" Concern filtered through Amanda's voice.

"Nothing." Blair moved her eyes to meet Amanda's.

"Nothing?"

"I'm fine Amanda. Just… a little overwhelmed." That much she felt comfortable admitting.

Amanda sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. _Finally. "_ You were obviously bothered by something last night." She watched as Blair eyed her with trepidation.

"How could you tell?"

Amanda reached over to one of the two empty wine bottles they'd finished and set on the counter. She grabbed it and turned it upside down; tiny drops making their way to the counter top.

Blair lifted a discomfited brow. "Oh."

Amanda set the bottle up right. "Thanks for at least letting me have _one_ glass all to myself. I don't think I've ever seen you drink so much in one sitting."

Blair nodded then lifted her hands. Letting them drop; she gave Amanda a weak smile. "I have to go in early."

She turned and made her way down the hall to her bedroom, sensing the brunette following. Blair padded her way across the room as Amanda leaned on the doorframe. She watched as Blair opened the doors to her enormous walk in closet, noticing the almost obscene amount of shoes on display.

"You never answered my question."

Blair grabbed a tan suit and white blouse from her racks. Turning, she met questioning eyes. She threw the clothing on her bed and sighed. "I got the papers yesterday."

Amanda pushed off from the doorframe. "Papers?"

A nod. "Cliff." Blair watched as concerned eyes approached her apprehensively.

"Hmm…" Amanda nodded.

"I asked Meg to send them to me as soon as they came to the mansion. So she walks in with this envelope and all I could think was… this is it."

"Did you talk to him?"

Blair paused, feeling anguished. "Yes, it was… sad."

"I'm sorry." The brunette moved closer.

"He just brushed it off like it was no big deal, and God… I just felt so bad." Blair shook her head. "If I could just go back, I…"

"Blair." Amanda kept her voice soft. "It's over. Let's just put it in the past where it belongs."

Blair took in the woman before her. She was sincere and open and… _wonderful._ She cracked a small, lopsided grin. "You're right. "

Feeling empathetic, Amanda gently captured the blonde around the waist; bringing her close. "But, wow, perfect timing, huh? Your first day on the job and all." She gently consoled, sensing the need to diffuse some tension.

Blair turned around, placing her back to Amanda, and letting her head fall back a little.

"God, my job…"

Amanda lightly rested her chin on Blair's shoulder. "Well, you are the newly appointed President."

Blair rolled weary eyes. "Don't remind me."

Amanda hummed as she silently gauged the blonde's temperament. She had talked incessantly about the board meeting last night while drinking glass after glass of champagne. "Something else bothering you?"

Blair felt the tiny, gentle circles being drawn on her stomach and cracked a smile. "Nooo…"

Amanda muffled a small giggle. "Mmmm… you like that?"

"Very much," came the light, breathy reply.

They stayed like that for a minute; swaying a little in the middle of the room. Blair let her mind drift, not really intent on focusing on anything but the feelings going through her at the moment.

"Blair?"

It was said so softly she'd barely heard it. "Yes?"

"Why won't you kiss me?"

The blonde went still. She'd thought briefly about pretending not to hear the question. "I…"

"Not ready yet?" _I kno_ w _._ Amanda nodded.

Blair shook her head, keeping her back to Amanda. "It's not that. I just wanted to wait until…" She let it linger. "I, um..."

"The divorce was final," Amanda's voice tinged with cynicism.

Blair nodded, "Yes. Well, I, I didn't want to rush into anything."

That sounded insincere, and Amanda filed the feeling of heavy disappointment away, for now. "We've known each other for what… six months?"

A nod.

"And we decided to start dating about two weeks ago."

"Casually." Blair pointed out, her voice rather strong there.

Amanda bit the inside of her lip, nodding begrudgingly. "Yes, casually."

She loosened her arms around Blair, allowing her to turn around and face her. "The divorce was final yesterday." She said pointedly, capturing hesitant brown eyes.

"I know," came the soft reply.

Amanda studied her for a moment. "So what's stopping you?" She quirked her mouth, half teasing, half serious.

Blair started to answer. Eyes flicked to the soft lips in front of her as she licked her own lips nervously.

Amanda watched carefully. She tried to keep her face neutral, but Blair's lack of a response was telling.

"Oh, wait, that's right… your newly appointed job as _President_. Is _she_ the mistress I should be worried about?" A sarcastic smirk crossed her features.

Blair took a step back. "Amanda."

Amanda lifted a brow; a bit self satisfied she'd stirred the executive's ire a little. "Ah, what… I don't' get extra points for guessing correctly?" she lightly teased.

Blair let out a sigh. "I don't have time for this." She turned, heading for the bed.

"Blair." Amanda rolled her eyes, a feeling of regret washing over her. She watched as Blair smoothed out her skirt, then forcefully snapped it in the air; doing the same with her blouse. "I'm sorry, ok?"

Blair laid the blouse down on the bed not meeting the eyes of her companion. She tilted her head in thought. Truth was she wasn't looking forward to starting the rat race today at all. She looked at Amanda who was patiently waiting for her to respond.

"It's just going to be a hectic week, and I'm not looking forward to it."

"I can understand. You have to prove yourself," Amanda sat down on the bed. It was still disheveled from the night before.

Blair ran a hand through her hair. "It's not enough I have to _prove_ myself. I have to troubleshoot and figure out how to get over major hurdles and babysit and… _and_."

"Whoa, babysit?"Amanda chuckled.

"Yeah. God, can you believe that?" Blair gave her an incredulous look.

Amanda fell silent for a moment in thought. "Not really." Her brows knit. "Do you mean an _actual_ baby we're talking about here or…"

"Stop teasing. Really? You'd think that?" Blair eyed her then let out a laugh.

Amanda shrugged. "Well, you said _babysit_. I can't imagine what the president of a major corporation would be doing babysitting, what… clients?"

An eye roll. "I wish. Probably would be easier." _Though not by much_.

Amanda watched as Blair went back into her closet then quickly returned with a pair of heels that complimented her outfit. "Tough customer?"

Blair dropped the shoes. "Stubborn, infuriating, frustrating…" Hands quickly went to hips, and a bottom lip was nervously bitten.

"I see..."

"And hot headed, Oh God, s _ooo_ freaking ill tempered!" Blair flailed an arm.

Amanda absorbed the reaction, pursing her lips. "Sounds like you know this… colleague? Pretty well."

Blair looked up. "She went to school with me, is all." She turned and straightened the bed sheets.

 _She._ Amanda slid off the bed as Blair snapped the covers straight. She stood watching as the pillows were fluffed briskly, Blair beating them into shape.

"Sounds like you two don't get along too well."

Brown eyes glanced up. "We've had our moments." She smoothed out the top comforter.

"The way you just described her, she seems like a real asshole." The tone was almost challenging, and Amanda internally smiled at her own description.

Blair arched a brow. "Hardly."

The brunette nodded. "You have to work with her?"

Blair sighed, sitting down on the bed. "Unfortunately. Some new project Daddy already approved."

Amanda sat down beside her; the mattress bouncing a bit. "Maybe I'll drop by. You know, to make sure she doesn't bother you." She patted the knee she found there.

Blair cast a sideways glance before getting up from the bed. "I can handle her." She tossed back. She picked up a towel from her dresser then opened the top drawer and got out a loofah sponge.

"Ok, then can I come by to get you for lunch?" Amanda walked over to her. "For a well deserved break?" She batted her eyes; her voice had a hopeful quality to it.

"Sure." Blair cracked a smile, charmed by the woman's cute expression.

Amanda clapped her hands happily. "Then it's all set." She smiled brightly.

"All set." Blair returned the smile. She turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Westerfield Park. Beautiful. _Cute_. Brand spanking new.

It was designed as a complement to the newly renovated apartments in the area. It boasted a vibrant walking trail comprised of an assortment of native plants, trees and flowers. The wonderful smell of year round evergreen trees was a welcomed aroma as patrons moved along the trail enjoying the visual display of foliage.

Muscular legs ran along the sidewalk; the pounding of running shoes beat the pavement, as a steady pace was set.

"C'mon boy." Jo had Ace along side her and was glad his leash was adjustable. She had to stop a few times as he marked his territory… which comprised of peeing on the trees, bushes and flowers.

It was wearing the agent out, and Jo found herself pulling on his leash when he'd taken a special liking to those few patrons who'd mistakenly decided to stop and enjoy the view only to find their leg attacked by free flowing urine or, occasionally, a randy dog trying to have his way with them.

"Knock it off!" Jo had taken to jogging in place as Ace whined then started marking a small tree. _Can't take you anywhere_.

Her phone buzzed and she unclipped it from the harness she'd strapped on the outside of her jogging leggings. "Polniaczek."

" _How'd I know you'd be up already?"_ Eric's voice piped through her phone.

A heavy sigh. "Ace wouldn't let me sleep in. What's up?"

" _What time are you going over to The Warner Building?"_

"One thirty." Jo watched as Ace animatedly wagged his tail, digging down with his hind legs in order to throw grass and dirt on his marked territory.

" _That's kind of late."_

She started jogging again. "Yeah, well I guess Blair's busy in the morning so she has me reporting to her then."

" _Can you go over any earlier?"_

Jo slowed her steps and thought for a second. "I don't see why not. Any particular reason?"

" _The serial number on Russell's computer brought up a service fee."_

"Yeah, and? **ACE!"** She yanked the dog off of an older lady who had been on an early morning walk only to have her leg attacked by the horny dog. Jo gave the startled woman an embarrassed grimace. "I'm really sorry about that, ma'am."

Jo glared at the Jack Russell, his head held down; resigned. He whined then galloped along beside her as they picked the pace back up and made their way down the path.

" _The service fees seem to be for the first Friday of every month."_

"What are they for?"

" _I'm glad you asked, they're for the hard drive."_

Jo's breath was slightly labored. "So?... What… Warner was having it wiped? That's not going to be a problem for me." She stated.

" _Not wiped, destroyed. Then replaced entirely, every month."_

Jo slowed her pace again. "That does pose a problem."

" _A problem we need to solve quickly, Jo."_

"Understood. When are they coming to change it out?" She wiped at the sweat forming on her forehead.

" _Two days from now._ "

"That soon?"

" _That soon. Get in there and get it collected. I have a feeling this is the one that has the information we need."_

"Not going to be easy." Jo yanked the leash a bit.

" _I know, you told me. Blair has to log you in."_

Jo nodded, picking up her pace again. "Yeah, well, she's been too busy for anything more than a two second conversation."

There was silence for a moment. Jo could hear Eric typing on his pad. " _You know what you need to do_."

That went without question. "Yeah. Create an inferno. This is Blair we're talking about."

A laugh. " _What... she's argumentative? Wouldn't have guessed it."_

Jo smirked then rounded a corner. "I just need to throw her off her game."

She flexed her calves, her thighs tightening with each step. Her tank top as drenched in sweat; the imprint of her toned abdominals showing through the material.

" _Do_ w _hatever you have to do, just get the information off of Russell's drive_."

"I will. And don't worry, I can handle her."

" _Fair enough. Just remember w_ e _'re up against time here."_

"Eric, I know," she panted.

" _Alright. Good luck."_

"Yeah, thanks." Jo disconnected the call.

This was indeed all about skating a thin line, but ultimately comprised of getting on Blair's bad side; a side she was all too familiar with. Of course, it often worked to her advantage to ruffle Blair's feather's a little. That usually resulted in her being dismissed in one form or another. Jo just hoped her plan didn't backfire and banish her from the mission altogether.

 _Thin line…very thin._ Her lips quirked to a small grin. She loved a good challenge.

They stopped again as Ace barked, cocking a leg up. He only had a few drops left in him to mark the poor dogwood tree. Jo bent down and rubbed his head, earning a few satisfied whines. The energetic dog was panting hard from all the running they'd done.

She stood back up, stretching her legs and looked out over the expanse of the park. Only a couple miles to go, then shower and dress, she told herself. She knew what she had to do. Jo took in a deep breath as a plan started to form in her head.

"C'mon boy, time to hit the grinder."

* * *

"So you're saying they don't have any leads at all detective Matasuki?" Blair stepped off the executive elevator heading toward her office; her ear sealed against her cell phone.

She listened intently, waiting for the interpreter to relay her question to the detective in Tokyo. She could hear him respond in his native tongue.

"Uh huh." She stopped just outside of her office door. "Please let me know something substantial by the end of the day, I have an executive board I have to answer to and—"

She abruptly stopped talking once she realized the interpreter was trying his best to keep up with her. "Yes, my board needs answers." Another pause. "Yes, today."

The ping of the elevator got Blair's attention. The doors slowly opened to reveal the dark haired agent. She was dressed in a crisp navy blue pantsuit, briefcase in hand.

Blair checked her watch then made a resentful face. "I look forward to that, thank you… arigato **."** She disconnected the call.

 _Here we go._ Jo nonchalantly walked up to the blonde. "Hey..."

Blair cocked a brow. "What are you doing here? It's nine-thirty."

Jo purposely displayed a casual demeanor. "I thought I'd come in a little early and get started on some things. You know, set up and—"

"I don't have time for this." Blair abruptly entered her office, aware of Jo following close behind her. She rounded her desk. "Our meeting time is one thirty for a reason, Jo. I'd appreciate it if you would abide by my wishes."

Jo sat her briefcase down on the chair in front of Blair's desk. "Blair, c'mon. What's the problem here."

Brown eyes flicked to meet green. "In case you haven't figured it out, I have a company to run." She sat down and turned on the computer.

"I won't stand in your way." Jo made a wide gesture with her arms. "Just let me see some figures and I'm all ready to get the ball rolling." A toothy smile.

Blair gauged the woman in front of her; squinting slightly before voicing a pointed, "No."

Jo's smile wavered. "What do you mean _no,_ Blair." She was starting to sense an _in_ for her plan.

Blair peered up at the brunette; twisting back and forth slightly in her chair. "First of all your desk is out there." She pointed toward her office door.

Jo swung around. "What… In the lobby?"

"At my executive assistant's station… until I find one."

Jo thought for a moment. "Ok, but I still need to see the figures."

"I'll get you a print out, for a more permanent visual." Brown eyes bored into green.

 _Are we getting smug now?_ Jo bobbed her head. "How about we just sit right here and look at them together?" She moved then plopped down on the corner of Blair's desk. "That way we won't be wasting paper." A grin.

She watched as the blonde visibly breathed through her nostrils. _C'mon._ _That's it, Blair..._

Blair lightly cleared her throat. "How long is this going to take? I have a meeting in twenty minutes."

"Oh," Jo pretended to think for a moment. "Probably an hour or so."

"An hour." Blair begrudgingly got up and made her way to the file cabinet.

Jo nodded. She noticed the computer had been successfully booted and awaited for Blair's prompt to log in. "You can go to your meeting and I'll just hang out here until you get back." She offered.

Blair retrieved a file then slammed the cabinet door, locking it. "You can _hang out_ in the lobby and when I return I'll print out the information you need." A mocking smile. "That way you'll be free to leave at lunchtime - for the rest of the day." She added.

Jo casually watched as Blair put the file in her briefcase, then swiftly move toward the office door without a glance backwards.

Jo blew out a breath. "Blair wait." She moved to join Blair at the door. "Really. What's going on?" It was said gently and Blair spared her a look.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Jo shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. "O-k. I'll speak plainly for you. I've obviously done something that's upset you."

That was met with silence. Jo continued, taking a step closer. "You have yet to even give me a clue as to what that is."

Blair took in a harsh breath. "Alright, fine. I was having a bad day yesterday, Okay? Things weren't quite unfolding the way I'd hoped and I was feeling overwhelmed by it all. The last thing I needed was another project."

Jo crossed her arms. "So you literally and figuratively threw me out on my keister… to prove _what_ exactly?"

Blair paused for a moment then purposefully yanked the door open. "Don't be so touchy." She swiftly moved out into the lobby area.

Green eyes hardened then steeled; and Jo barked out a laugh. "Really. Touchy? Seriously Blair?!" She caught up with the blonde at the elevator.

Blair punched the down button. "Yes… touchy." She turned and looked at her new _office mate_. Jo's nostrils were flaring, and Blair bit back a self-satisfied grin before it overtook her features.

It was _the_ opening Jo had been waiting for. Her facial features sliding into a mocking glare. "Corporate America be damned. You're still the same spoiled _princess_ you ever were."

Brown eyes held a stunned look. "Don't call me that." Blair's voice was low in register.

Jo shook her head at Blair's audaciousness. "Why not? You humiliated me and you could care less about it." She stepped closer noticing the glint in Blair's eyes. "You don't even feel like you owe me an explanation do you?"

The elevator had arrived, and the doors had been open for a few seconds. Neither of them had noticed until they'd swiftly closed again.

"I've already given you one." Blair turned on her heel and went back into her office.

Jo followed closely behind her. "That explanation doesn't cut it with me, Blair!"

Blair turned suddenly almost knocking into the fuming agent. "Do you want the figures or not?"

"You know what? Right now I'd prefer a better explanation." Green eyes held brown, and Blair blinked at the sudden prowess of the brunette. She took a slight step back, determined to keep her composure.

"Why Jo? Why would you even bother?" She flicked a few strands from her eyes.

"I." Jo started, then frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You've never cared for my opinion or what I think or _feel_ about anything. So why do you care why I threw you out?" Blair crossed her arms tightly. Her look was almost condemning.

"Is that what you really think?" Jo stared a bit confused by the sudden declaration.

"It's what I _know,_ Jo. You look at me and you see what you want to see. Usually that means someone who is nothing but a... princess." A smirk. "How quickly I forget sometimes. We've known each other for several years and you still can't quite get over the fact that I'm rich."

Jo scoffed. "Oh come off it Blair. We got past all that years ago."

Blair held her stance. Her facial features unwavering, daring Jo to explain herself. She sucked in her cheeks and waited.

 _I hate when she does that. So much_. Jo let out a breath. "Is all this because I came out to you?"

Blair barked a small laugh. She caught the sudden, offended look on Jo's face and chose to ignore it.

"There is no deeper meaning Jo, no ulterior motive, no mysterious reason. I simply didn't want this project in the first place." _There. Stated calmly._

"Then why didn't you throw out my entire team, huh? Why _just_ me?" Jo questioned.

Blair stood still for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe I _did_ want to make a statement. Is that good enough for you?" She raised a brow.

"No." Jo made an incredulous face. She crossed her arms, mirroring Blair. "No it's not." She managed to give Blair a serious look. "Tell me… exactly _what_ statement would that be, Blair? You have all the power now so you can wield it around as you please?"

Blair scoffed. "I believe I've already answered you."

Jo watched as she moved to stand behind her desk. "You could've talked to me face to face!"

Blair moved a few papers around, flicking through them. "I'm a very busy woman, I was simply saving time." She purposefully ignored the disbelieving look that was thrown her way.

"And wasting mine," Jo added loudly. She watched Blair a few moments. Her lack of acknowledgment was noted - that's what Blair Warner does best.

 _Time to end this._ Jo gave the blonde a long look, taking in her appearance: Designer suit, makeup, perfect. Her hair was freshly trimmed and styled. She had newly manicured fingernails and just the right amount of perfume – not too overbearing.

She lifted her chin confidently. "But what do you expect from someone who's had their whole career handed to them on a silver platter?"

 _That did it_.

Blair ever so slowly lifted her head to meet the dubious eyes of the woman in front of her. She shook her head in disbelief, a scowl curling the corner of her lip.

"I knew it. You're still the same self-righteous, egotistical, stubborn jerk!" she sneered, flicking her eyes over Jo's form. "I should've known; all those years in California didn't change you one bit!"

Jo met her head on. "Well now isn't that interesting, seeing as you've quickly moved up the power ranks recently haven't you, _Queen_ Warner!"

Blair's chest heaved. She tore her eyes from Jo's. "This is going to stop!" She held a hand up. "I've played games with you long enough." She signed onto the computer, the prompts popping up then she clicked into the financial operating spreadsheets - bringing them up one by one.

"Contrary to how you feel about me, I have a company to run so you are going to review these figures and I'm going to my meeting. That's final!"

She all but shouted the last two words before staring down the impossible brunette; then quickly exited the office allowing the door to slam dramatically behind her.

 _Final._

The door actually rattled. Jo watched until it stopped.

" _Jo… you there?"_

A brown head nodded timidly, then shook. Tearing her eyes from the door, she quickly moved to sit at Blair's desk, clicking on the screen. She scanned it, and then reached in her pocket taking out a small USB device. She put it in the tower port.

It only took a few seconds. "I'm in Eric, but she might surprise me and come back, so let's make this quick."

" _Don't worry she's heading down… I won't even tell you what kind of condition she's in_."

A sigh. "Yeah, I know." Jo started typing.

" _Let's just say… you'd be in pretty bad shape if you were the inside of that elevator_."

She paused. "You just had to tell me that."

Eric could hear the frustration in his agent's voice. _"Stay focused."_

"Focusing." She typed in a few codes.

" _Alright. Let me know when you've completed the 525 so I can get a look_."

"Done."

A chuckle. " _That was fast_."

"I aim to please." Jo half smiled, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "He had this stuff buried six level's deep."

" _That's pretty deep. Definitely didn't_ _want it found_." Eric brought up a new screen. " _Alright I see you_."

There were hundreds of spreadsheets concerning undocumented transactions to pour through. " _Bingo! Well, well... looks_ _like Warner_ w _as a very busy man."_

Jo quickly scanned the screen. "I've never seen so many transactions in one day! Look at two weeks ago… starting on the 13th."

" _Not good. Let's get it to analytics for a trace_."

"Alright, one sec," Jo clicked a few times. "Incoming."

She leaned back and waited as everything downloaded. Shaking her head, she wondered how many exchanges were actually legally viable to the company.

" _By the way, that was brutal Jo. I sure as hell don't understand your methods… but I respect them."_

Jo looked up, eyeing Blair's office door. "All in a day's work." She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek, shaking herself to concentrate. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

The program had finally stopped. She clicked around the screen. "Alright. Let's see what we have here."

* * *

The double doors swung open as a small, swiftly moving crowd emptied the boardroom. The meeting of high-ranking managers and board executives had gone well enough for an hour and a half. Blair had outlined the next month's goals and, of course, informed them about the investigation of the warehouses in Tokyo.

She had been bombarded with questions right after the meeting and was, quite frankly, looking forward to her lunch break. Her phone chimed as she entered the lobby area.

 _In front lobby, on my way up_.

It was from Amanda about lunch. _Crap_. She'd forgotten about that.

"Blair?" Her father's voice came from behind her.

Blair kept walking. "I'm in a hurry."

"Can we talk for a minute?" He'd caught up with her before she could reach the elevators.

Blair sent a quick text message. "I have lunch."

"Cancel it."

A blonde brow shot up. "Why?"

"Your mother and I need to talk with you." David kept his voice low.

Blair typed in another message. "Must be serious, you two together? Since when?" She sent it.

"Since you have a much public life, but not really a private one." David stated.

Blair casted a few looks around as the group of executives started to thin out going back to their offices. "Daddy what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about—"

"David!"

The CEO turned to see the hand of a tall, lanky man rapidly approaching. He grabbed it, shaking it firmly; giving him a fake smile. "Miles. Are we still on for golf this Friday?"

"Absolutely. I don't suppose you still need that handicap on the seventh again?" The gravelly voiced man laughed then sprouted a wide grin.

"Brutal hole, but I think I can mange," David informed.

The executive nodded, then turned his attention to Blair. "Great presentation. Shame about the warehouses, but we'll just have to rebuild, won't we?"

Miles Winstead. Tall, gray and almost 80 years old. He was one of the oldest board members. Blair regarded him, then lifted her head as if to nod back when something struck her about his demeanor. He was quite sure of himself.

 _I_ _guess being on the board all these years he's been through it all_ , she mused, _especially when my grandfather was President._

"That is one of our options," Blair said cautiously. Her phone pinged again.

"Good, good," Miles turned to the CEO. "David, tee time's at nine, don't be late. Jensen wants to discuss expanding his shares again."

"Wouldn't miss it." They shook hands again, and David watched as the man walked down the corridor toward the elevator.

"Daddy, I have to go." Blair started to move down the corridor.

David kept in lock step with his daughter. He noticed his phone chime with a text, and glanced at it. "Blair."

"Yes?"

"Madison's at twelve sharp, we have a reservation for three. She only has an hour." David read. He glanced at Blair, giving her a slightly pleading look.

Blair sighed. "Daddy this is short notice. I really can't. Can we reschedule?"

"Can't you? Obviously this is serious, why else would I agree to meet with your mother."

That she couldn't argue with; it was true. She studied her father, his fingers poised over his device ready to type in her answer. She decided she'd be the source of resolution this time.

"Alright. Just let me make a call."

* * *

" _Jo…"_

"One second, last level coming in…" There was tapping of a few buttons. "Alright done. What is it?"

" _You have a visitor. There's a clone of you riding the elevator up to your floor."_

"What?" Jo leaned back in the office chair. Noticing how comfortable it felt.

" _I don't know_ w _ho this woman is but I'd bet good money I couldn't tell the two of you apart from behind."_

"Am I supposed to be flattered?" Jo noticed the prompts stop. She leaned forward. "It's uploading now. You should get it in five minutes."

" _Thanks. Get your ass back out in the lobby. She's two floors away."_

"Right." She closed down the screen.

Jo pulled the USB out of the tower – stuffing it in her pocket. She swiftly made her way across the office; gently closing the door behind her.

She quickly sat at the small receptionist's desk. She had previously set up her laptop and had her notes situated in front of her. She watched as the elevator doors quietly slid open.

 _Whoa_. _Ok, I can see some resemblance. Maybe a couple inches shorter_.

The woman was dressed in a very smart tan pants suit. No doubt designer as it fit her in all the right places.

As she stepped off the elevator, Jo noticed the woman look around the spacious lobby area until her eyes met Jo's.

"Hi."

The woman walked up to the receptionist's desk. "Hi. Is Blair in?"

"Uh, no, actually she stepped out for a minute."

"I see… " She turned and headed for the water cooler.

Jo watched the woman pour herself a cup full. "I'm sure she'll be right back."

"That's fine." She made her way back across the room toward Jo, a cautious smile on her lips. "I'm Amanda."

A brown head nodded. "Jo."

"Jo?"

Jo laughed a little to herself. "It's short for Joanna," she explained.

"I see," Amanda nodded then stepped away from the desk.

"Most people call me Jo."

A tight smile. "Sure." She took a sip.

"I'm new here." Jo sensed the need to explain herself to the woman.

"I see." The tone was slightly condescending.

There as a brief moment of silence then, "She shouldn't be much longer," Jo reassured.

Amanda took her cell out of her purse and tapped it. "I'll just give her a call."

Jo smiled. "Good idea."

"Blair? Hi I'm here… your office lobby. Yes, your secretary just told me you were on your way."

Jo smirked.

" _*snicker*"_

"No, I didn't get your message. I lost reception as soon as I entered the elevator. You sound upset. Alright, I'll just wait here with your secretary then — she isn't?"

Amanda slid her eyes over to the receptionist desk. She made a quick assessment of Jo as she typed away on her laptop. "Oh. I see. Bye."

Amanda put her cell phone back in her purse. "Sooo… Jo was it?"

Jo sensed eyes on her and looked up as the woman approached. "Yes?"

Amanda tapped her chin. "I remember now. Blair's told me a lot about you."

Jo sported a surprised look. "Really?"

"Yes. She said the two of you would be working together... some special little project or something or other." Amanda blinked, a plastered on smile graced her features.

"We _are_ working on a project. My company is, that is," Jo reiterated.

Amanda nodded then looked around the lobby, taking in the décor as she did. There wasn't much to it, just a couple of office plants; a few paintings on the beige walls. She recognized one or two of the artists.

Jo watched her for a moment. "She hadn't mentioned you," she pointed out.

Amanda turned her attention back to Jo. "Oh, she hasn't? Well, we are _very_ close." She stressed. "I'm sure she just didn't want to bring home the office… you understand."

Jo frowned a bit. _Not really._ "I'm sure you're right. I mean… I guess."

Jo was standing now, her hands in her pockets. She felt the small plastic device and rolled the flash drive around with her fingers. The two women just stood there and nodded to each other. The conversation had started to waver a bit.

" _Get her full name, Jo."_

"I didn't quite get your name."

"Amanda Palmero. I'm the chief curator at the VillaManzi Gallery." Amanda kept her eyes riveted to Jo.

"Jo Polniaczek, systems analyst for JTI. We're an educational software company."

" _Nice pitch_."

"How fascinating," Gray eyes held Jo's. There was a slight smirk.

Jo ignored it. "You said VillaManzi Gallery?"

"Yes. Second largest in the city. I'm sure you're familiar with MOMA?"

Jo thought for a second. "I'm sorry, MOMA?"

"Museum of Modern Art. They're the largest gallery. My mother sits on the board of trustees." It was added with a superior air.

Jo slowly recognized the formal name. "Ah, sure, sure. I _have_ heard of the museum. I didn't realize it was called MOMA."

" _You're so uncultured, for shame."_

Amanda gave a faint smile. "Simple acronym. Confuses some, but if you really think about it."

"Makes sense," Jo interjected lightly.

" _Jo, Blair's coming up on the executive elevator. She'll be rounding the corner in about thirty seconds. Doesn't look happy."_

 _Does she ever lately?_ "You're welcome to wait for Blair. I'm sure she'll be here any second now."

Amanda blinked a smile. "I'm sure."

They could both hear the executive elevator open and the sound of faint footsteps making their way down the hall. Blair had rounded the corner; her steps getting lighter and slower as the two women came into view.

She was visibly flustered. Her face and neck were crimson red and there was a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. She stood there for a few seconds her eyes going between the two.

"Blair?" Amanda noted the almost alarmed look gracing Blair's features.

"I see you two have met," Blair flicked her eyes to both of them. She seemed to be out of breath.

Amanda moved to stand by her side. "Yes. Joanna here was just telling me about the project her company has her working on."

Blair nodded, then turned her attention to Jo. "Y-yes. Um, did you get all of the information you needed?" She moved to approach the receptionist desk.

Jo nodded. "I did. Thank you. I was able to incorporate everything into my program. I'm just going to sit here and go over the spread sheets… again," she added. Blair seemed extremely tense.

"Good, good," Blair cleared her throat as she gestured to Amanda to follow her into the office.

"If you'll excuse us. Amanda?"

Amanda blinked then gave Jo a squinted glare as she passed by the desk. "Excuse us."

Blair entered the office and quickly headed for her desk.

Amanda paused, her hand resting on the doorknob. "Nice meeting you, Joanna."

Jo acknowledged the woman. "Same to you."

She watched as the door closed. Then discreetly put her hand over her mouth as she stared at her laptop; pretending to concentrate. She was careful not to tip off security.

"Palmero. What do we have on her?"

" _Better yet, why the hell do we not know about her? Damn, just what we need! Someone ne_ w _from outside to fuck up everything."_

Jo pretended to type, keeping her head down. "She works at an art gallery; it's no surprise she would know Blair. Probably harmless."

" _She was sizing you up."_

Jo hefted a laugh at that. _Classic_. "You mean judging me? Typical of Blair's friends, they always are."

" _Actually, I think... hold on, I just got your last file."_

"I warned you it's huge," Jo's eyes flicked to the security camera.

" _Ok, wow. Yeah this is going to take analytics a while. Here's what I'm going to do. I sent in a request for information on Ms. Palmero. I'll fill you in once we get it all. In the meantime, keep a low profile, Jo."_

"Don't I always?"

" _I mean until we find out more about Blair's mysterious friend."_

Jo glanced at Blair's office door. "No problem."

* * *

"I thought we were on for lunch, what happened?" Amanda watched as Blair closed her file cabinet then made her way back to her desk.

"My parents." Blair sighed as she took a seat.

"Did you tell them you have plans already?" Amanda asked. She was visibly upset.

"I did, but they're persistent." Blair turned off her computer. She glanced at the frustrated woman seated in front of her. She felt a twinge of sympathy.

She moved around to stand by Amanda. "I'm sorry. It must be something important otherwise they wouldn't both be risking injury to meet together."

Amanda grabbed Blair's hand stroking the backside gently before looking up into soft brown eyes. "Any idea what this is all about?"

"Not one clue."

There was silence for a moment then. "Rain check?" Amanda held a hopeful expression.

"Sure." Blair smiled.

Amanda stood up, noticing brown eyes following her. She gently placed her hands on Blair's hips. "You know, since they'll _both_ be together, it wouldn't be a bad time to tell them about us."

Blair cast a quick peek at the door then back to expectant eyes. "Amanda, in public? Besides I'm not… " She stepped out of the embrace.

 _Not ready, right._ Amanda let her hands fall. "Fair enough." She watched as Blair grabbed her briefcase. It wasn't lost on her the number of times the blonde had turned her gaze toward her office door. _So what if she catches us Blair._

"Speaking of which. Your friend out there… she doesn't have a clue, does she?"

Blair shook her head, her jaw tensed visibly. "No. And I, I'd prefer it if… "

"Shhh… don't worry. When you're ready." A hand went up and touched Blair on the shoulder.

"Thank you," Blair stated softly, relieved.

Amanda watched as Blair stuffed a few more items into her briefcase. She looked around the office for a moment, then back to Blair.

"She's gorgeous."

Blair peered at the brunette, blinking several times. "Excuse me?"

Amanda nodded toward the door. "Your friend. You didn't tell me she was so pretty, so… handsomely pretty."

Blair inhaled a breath then checked her phone. "She's from the Bronx."

Amanda took in the new information. "The Bronx." _Interesting_.

"Amanda I have to go, I'm already late and they're waiting for me." It was said with part trepidation, part dread.

Amanda waved her arm, gesturing for Blair to move past her. "By all means, please lead the way."

Blair did just that. Exiting the office, she moved swiftly past Jo.

Amanda closed the door then turned and regarded Jo. "Joanna, nice meeting you." The look was one of insincerity, and it wasn't lost on Jo.

"Same to you," came the direct reply. Jo shifted her eyes noting Blair keeping an eye on the two of them.

Blair stepped forward to address her project partner. "Are you taking a break for lunch?"

Jo checked her phone. _Almost twelve_. "Ah, didn't realize. Yeah, I'm meeting Tootie," she informed.

Blair let a pleasant look grace her face. "Tell her I said hello."

"I will," Jo smiled back.

With that, Blair nodded as she and Amanda made their way around the corner and out of sight.

" _How cordial."_

"How fake," Jo made a sour face.

She started to gather the loose papers on her desk, putting them in her briefcase.

" _Why don't you take a break from all the hoopla and go grab some lunch… Joanna."_

It was said teasingly, and Jo had to roll her eyes a little at her full name. Not many people felt daring enough to use it, especially those she'd told of her preferred shorter version.

Keeping her head down, Jo reached for her phone. "Best idea you've had all day." A wicked smile. "I'll be disconnecting from all the hoopla now."

She tapped it a few times, noting the chuckle on the other end was cut off abruptly as she ended their connection.

* * *

Madison's was a cordial, upscale restaurant located in the most posh part of Manhattan. Despite the English name it boasted a unique French menu, and was a favorite of Monica's.

Blair expected to see many of her colleagues there, including those from rival companies. She quickly scanned the room and wasn't disappointed. Upon arrival the Maitre D had a host escort the _President_ to her table.

She had spotted them. Her parent's sat at a little table set for four, off to the left. Her father was engrossed in his phone, while her mother sat nursing a glass of wine.

 _Red wine_.

 _Not good. Mother only drinks red vino when she's upset about something._

After being momentarily detained by a few associates and acquaintances while on her way to the table, Blair took the menu from the host, kissed her mother's cheek then sat down in the chair that was held out for her. "Thank you."

"We've already ordered," David said without looking up from his phone.

"Darling, what took you so long?" Monica quirked an eyebrow at her eldest daughter.

"I had a few things I needed to tie up, is all," Blair gave them both a polite smile as scanned the menu. She had practically memorized it from all the times she'd taken various clients and colleagues to the restaurant. She decided to get the usual. She sensed the need to ground herself.

Monica studied her for a moment. "I see."

The waiter arrived and Blair closed her menu and handed it to him. "I'll have the Le saumon roti sauce Aurore au saffran, garniture provençale aux herbes fraiches."

"Very good, Madame." The waiter finished writing the order. "...and wine, Madame?"

"Yes please. Whatever she's having," Blair gestured towards her mother.

"As you wish, very good," the waiter bowed slightly then left.

"Chateau Lafite Rothschild, Dear. You won't be disappointed." Monica informed.

"Sounds good." Blair sat back and regarded her parents. "Well. What was so important you had to drag me here?" She set her hands on the table clasping them together.

Monica sniffed, then took a sip of wine eyeing her ex-husband. "David?"

A newspaper was produced. The New York Times. David placed it in front of Blair.

Blair sat up. "What's this?"

"Page three, bottom corner," came the gruff reply.

Blair chuckled internally. Shaking her head, she had to wonder at her father's propensity for reading the tangible version of the paper. He was a die-hard. She flicked through the first two pages before finding the small article.

She read it.

 _Wow. Didn't take them long_. "I guess that's a done deal then." She folded the paper and slid it back to her father.

The waiter had arrived and presented a sample of wine for Blair. She tasted it and nodded her approval. The waiter filled her glass, then left.

Monica and David watched as Blair casually sipped. Her eyes darting around the restaurant, nodding at a few of the patron's she knew.

Monica cleared her throat, annoyed at Blair's nonchalant attitude. This was serious. "Really, Darling? You couldn't have told us beforehand?"

Blair flicked her gaze to her mother. "You both knew we separated, legally and publically."

"I thought the two of you were working things out." David interjected.

Blair sat her glass down. "Did you really, Daddy? Cliff's in Florida pursuing his residency," she pointedly informed.

"And when he's finished, the plan was to come back to New York." Monica kept her voice down.

"No. It wasn't, Mother. That was never the plan." Blair was stern.

"Keep your voice down!"

Blair rolled her eyes a bit. "We just decided it was best to end it."

David leaned forward. "Blair, you and I both know whenever _we_ do something this drastic there are consequences." He put a finger on the paper for emphasis.

Blair arched a brow at that. "Isn't this whole thing a bit hypocritical?"

"This is different." He sat back.

Blair shook her head. His insistent demeanor was making her angry. "How? How, Daddy?!"

"Shh!" Monica held a finger to her lips.

That was enough. "Oh please, Mother. You've got to be kidding me. Look at the two of you. You mean to tell me you're going to try and lecture me about divorce?"

Monica abruptly rose from her chair. "This was a bad idea. Garcon?!"

"Monica sit!" David barked. They were aware of eyes on them now. Monica sucked in a grimace as she slowly regained composer and sat back down. She picked up her glass and continued nursing her vino.

David turned his attention back to his daughter. "Blair, your mother and I only want what's best for you."

Blair smirked. "Oh, well now I get it. How foolish of me. Of course you could care less about my life. This isn't even about me, is it?"

"Darling, you're overreacting," Monica muttered.

 _Unbelievable_. "Don't, Mother."

"Please try and understand… "

"Oh I understand," Blair clenched her jaw. "You decided to hash this all out here; in public. How predictable! God forbid we actually discuss this in private. My goodness, we can't have that can we?! That'd mean we'd actually have to talk to each other, tell each other what we really think of just how manipulative this whole thing really is!"

There was an awkward silence, then, "Are you finished?"

Blair turned blazing eyes on her father. "Are you? Tell me what _is_ the bottom line here, hmm?"

Monica swirled her wine glass. "You're being impossible on purpose."

"I'm being?!" Barely concealed anger etched Blair's face. "This is about the _trust_ isn't it!"

"Blair, keep your voice down." David's tone held a tinge of warning.

Blair scooted from her chair, rising in a huff. "Fine, let's take this outside, shall we? That way we won't put on a show!"

"Calm. Down." David pounded his open hand on the table, glaring up at his daughter.

Their eyes locked in a quiet test of wills. Tempers had been brought to the edge, yet each one of them understood the significance of the situation. They were in public. That meant decorum at all costs.

Blair stood silently for a moment then pinched the bridge of her nose and quietly sat back down. She swiftly grabbed her glass and downed the rest of the wine, loudly setting it back on the table. There was a low hum around the room. Several diners had eyed their table; whispers could be heard along with the tinkling of piano keys and silverware. A few moments passed, the noise of the restaurant returning to a respectable level.

Monica addressed her daughter. "So I guess you and Paul are an item for now?"

Blair slowly rolled her eyes to meet the brown ones of her mother. "No... No. See, you're wrong about that too mother."

Monica acted surprised. "Really dear? He seems quite perfect for you. Perhaps you should give him a chance." She picked up her wine glass and brought it to her lips. "Since Cliff is no longer in the picture."

"Well, I think his fiancée may have something to say about that." Blair quirked her lips a bit.

"Come again?" Monica lowered her glass, eyeing Blair in question.

"He's getting married in about two weeks." She waited a few beats, running her fingers up and down the stem of her empty wine glass.

"To a man." It was said tersely, calculatedly.

"I beg your pardon, Dear?" Monica stiffened visibly in her seat, a hand coming up to touch her chest in effectuated shock.

Blair almost enjoyed it. "I said he's marrying a _man,_ Mother."

Monica glanced at David who was sitting still – his mouth open in a dumbfounded expression. "I don't understand. What, why would…"

Blair shook her head. "Oh please. It's 2015. You can say it. He's gay."

Monica leaned forward. "What on earth would you get out of dating a gay man, Blair?"

Blair's eye's flashed. "You mean besides tips on decorating and fabulous taste in shoes?" She grinned sarcastically. "You tell me. We've all seen the society blogs and pages. We look good together, don't we?"

"Blair what exactly are you trying to convey here?" David had a concerned look on his face.

"I'm tired of this whole thing. You brought me here to tell me I made a mistake divorcing Cliff, right? Or to confirm I'm abiding by the family duty of making sure I'm properly bred. Which one?" Blair asked, noticing their waiter arriving with their entrée's.

"Here we are Madame, Madame, and Monsieur." The waiter sat down each dish carefully in front of them. The steam rising from the plates did nothing to quell the confused, angry and shocked expressions of her parents.

Blair glanced up at the waiter once he was finished. "You know what? Wrap it up please, Garcon. I'm going to need this to go."

She got up, ignoring the confused look of the waiter as he quickly moved out of the way, almost tripping backward.

"I'll wait for it up front," Blair threw her napkin on the table.

"As you wish, Madame." The waiter quickly noted.

"It's Mademoiselle." Blair corrected him. He nodded, then left swiftly.

David turned pleading eyes to Blair. "Please. You're overreacting."

Blair bent down within earshot, eyeing them both. "Save it. Both of you." Her tone was clipped.

She reached in her purse placing a hundred dollar bill on the table. "You don't really know me."

With a quick turn of a heel and brisk steps, Blair made her way from the table, her parents, and the spectacle they'd created.

* * *

The room was dark. Or was it an auditorium? Either way, the walls and curtains were all black. The stage ahead wasn't exactly tiny… small. Yes. No. Intimate was a better fit; an intimate stage setting.

Jo stood on the top step, the glaring stage lights temporarily blinding her.

"Jo, over here!"

Jo shielded her eyes with her hand as she made her way down the steps toward the stage. "Nice digs."

Tootie smiled then helped her up on to the stage and over to a small table where there was food and drinks. "The craft cart only had chicken salad, chips and lemonade."

Jo delighted in the spread before her. "Looks good. I haven't eaten since early this morning and that was just an apple."

Tootie handed her a sandwich. "Don't tell me you're on a diet too."

"Not at all."

They each grabbed a bag of chips and a cup of lemonade; then made their way over to a small table with two chairs and sat down.

Jo immediately took a large bite of her sandwich. "I do have to keep in shape. It's part of the job," she chewed.

Tootie raised a brow. "Part of the job? You sit at a desk all day." She crunched a chip.

"Which is why we're encouraged to work out in the gym at my building. I also run." Jo took a sip of lemonade.

They sat there for a moment, enjoying the taste of the food.

Jo wiped her mouth looking around the stage. Professional design and settings were being worked on. She was impressed. This was a well-known location. Many off Broadway productions came through the Grammerson Playhouse Theater.

"So, when's opening night, Toot?"

"In about five weeks. We're just doing table readings right now. Getting to know each other."

Jo nodded. "How big is the cast?"

"Pretty small, actually. It's a Shakespeare play so… But I love the director," Tootie pointed out.

"That's great, Tootie," Jo smiled.

Tootie watched Jo for a moment. "What about you? You can't tell me programming is exciting." She took a bite of her sandwich.

 _Not at all_. Jo had to think about that. Computers had been her guilty pleasure in college. She'd been fascinated by them. When JTI offered her a job, she was thrilled to be able to utilize her skills, _but_...

She reflected about her credentials as a secret service agent. She felt… needed. _Yeah_. She decided she liked that. And the pay was better than she had expected. It was just the danger that came with everything, she mused. _And the secrecy_. She wasn't a fan of that.

She gave Tootie a little grin. "I get out on my bike when I need a break from time to time."

"Oh my God, I saw the new bike!" Tootie giggled. "It's so much bigger than what you used to ride, Jo."

It was her pride and joy. Jo loved to ride, but the need to travel compelled her to buy a bike with a bit more cargo space without depriving the _look_ of the masterpiece that was her 'baby' of course.

Jo felt a little giddy when talking about her prized mode of transportation. "I just got it before I rode out here." She knew she sounded proud, but well... she was.

Tootie hummed. "You must be doing pretty well at JTI."

A lopsided grin. "I do Okay." Jo motioned to her table companion. "What about you? What are you doing besides acting?"

"I just started yoga a few days ago."

Jo sat back. "Oh yeah? What brought that on?"

Tootie shrugged. "Acting's stressful. It gives me a chance to re-connect with myself. Meditate and disconnect from the world for an hour three times a week." She laughed.

Jo smiled and rocked back in her chair regarding her friend. "You know, one day soon you're going to be a _star,_ Tootie."

Tootie waved her off smiling. "Naah, I've got a ways to go yet."

"Well, when you do, don't forget us little people," Jo chided.

"Hardly," Tootie picked up her lemonade slurping it. "You guy's keep me grounded." She set the cup down. "I know sometimes I can be a little… pretentious." She slyly eyed Jo.

"You? Pretentious? Nooo…" Jo dodged the napkin that was thrown her way as a giggle escaped her.

Tootie smiled. "I'm serious, I just…" She looked up at the rafters, at the lights, the ropes holding the walls of scenery above. She loved the stage; the rush of excitement on opening night, the nostalgic feeling of nailing that last line, in that show, after that last curtain call.

And she was just getting started. "I want to be taken seriously. You know?"

 _I can understand that_. "I totally understand." Jo let a smile cross her lips. "I guess you're pretty serious about this whole acting thing."

Tootie considered the question. "About as serious as you are about the whole computer thing, I gather."

"Yeah. Well, I do have a Master's degree in computer science."

"And a Bachelor's in English," Tootie reminded her.

 _True_. Moving to California had afforded Jo the option to gain employment as well as pursue turning her minor in English to a Bachelor's degree and her Bachelor's in Computer science to a Master's... all done at Stanford University. It was required for all agents to have a Master's, at least, in her field.

"It's a… job," Jo sat her chair on all fours.

"Just a job?" came the non-convincing inquiry.

Jo scratched at the side of her neck. "I like being able to help people."

Tootie nodded. The side of her mouth quirked. "You know, I always thought you'd be in a classroom somewhere, Jo."

A brow rose. "Really."

"Yes." Tootie regarded her seriously.

"What would make you think that?" Jo crossed her arms over her chest, a little bemused.

Tootie thought for a second. "Just." A shrug. "Remember that middle school class you interned during your junior year at Langley?"

Jo rubbed her chin in thought. "Yeah." A chuckle.

"You wouldn't shut up about how much those kids got on your nerves, but there was a twinkle."

"A twinkle, Tootie?" Jo laughed then eyed her companion.

A vigorous nod. "You just lit up whenever you talked about how you finally got through to them."

 _Wow_ , that seemed like so long ago. "Yeah well, I realized I needed to be able to afford to make a living so… " She trailed off thinking about those afternoons at Jefferson Middle School. Nothing quite like the feeling of seeing those eyes light up when you've finally gotten them to understand a concept, or a theory. _Yeah_. She smiled wistfully.

"So?" Tootie's question lingered as she watched Jo reminisce. She turned, noticing one of her colleagues coming up the stage steps. "Oh! Hi, Jill."

The short redhead handed her a sheet of paper. "Just got the schedule for the run."

Tootie took it. "Great, thanks. Oh this is my friend, Jo Polniaczek. Jo, Jill Martin." She looked at Jo, "She's my understudy." She informed.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Jo waved.

"Same to you." The woman nodded and smiled then made her way over to the food cart.

Tootie scanned the document. "Wow, we're going to be pretty busy the first week."

She turned it over. "Four middle schools and high schools. Let's see that's three show's for the morning and matinee and two in the evening. Then weekends and night time shows for the general public," she stated happily.

"Sound's very busy for you," Jo commented.

Tootie's eyes lit up. "I love it, Jo. Being this busy helps me hone my acting chops and fine tune the character when I have to play her so many times." Tootie's excitement was almost palpable.

"Not to mention the reaction from the audience right?" Jo pointed out.

"They love it. The set up is so intimate, we're so close to the front rows, you can see them getting caught up in the story," she flashed a big, genuine smile.

Jo tilted her head. She watched as Tootie made note of every one of her performances. It wasn't just the work part, but the actual enjoyment of working… as an actress.

Jo regarded her friend still engrossed in her schedule. "I'm sure it's a great learning experience for the kids to actually see real life situations acted out. It grounds them; helps them relate to the story Shakespeare was trying to convey as a real life person to be taken seriously. The real elements of the story reflected through the interpretation of the actors. All viewed through the eyes of the student."

Jo stopped herself. She almost laughed. She hadn't meant to blurt that out. She shook her head and grabbed her lemonade, finishing it.

Tootie looked up, absorbing Jo's interpretation as she did. She watched as Jo shyly glanced around the stage. Taking it all in. _Enjoying_ it.

 _She gets it_. Tootie sat her schedule down on the table. "Yes… yes that's it."

* * *

"Ma'am we can't let you through."

"Ma'am? Can the niceties, Doug. Since when am I not allowed up to see Blair?" Natalie gave the security guard a stern eye.

"Miss Warner is momentarily unavailable," came the stoic reply.

"Ok, fine then. Let me contact my other friend, who's working for her." She whipped out her phone and began dialing. "You may have heard of her? Jo Polniaczek?"

"We're aware. If you'll please step aside ma'am."

The lobby was beginning to fill up with employee's returning from lunch. Jo had just entered the area, spotting the persistent reporter. She quickly ambled over to her.

"Nat?"

Natalie turned around at the familiar voice. "Thank God! You know, ever since Blair became president her palace guards here have become insufferable," she gestured to the tall, broad shouldered man.

"Yeah, well…" Jo eyed him cautiously. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to see you."

Jo recognized the stressed aspect of Natalie's demand. She eyed the guard again. He was trying his best to act like he wasn't listening.

"You could've called me," Jo kept her voice low, hoping Natalie would get the hint.

Natalie smirked, then whispered. "I need to speak with you in private." She kept her eyes on the guard as she spoke.

"Okay, okay. Let's take this outside." Jo grabbed Natalie's elbow, catching the guard's eye as she did, giving him a tiny glare.

She guided Natalie out of the building. They walked swiftly until they'd reached a bench in the atrium. A few people were standing around, drinking coffee or talking on their phones. None were particularly paying any attention to them.

Jo met Natalie's eyes. "What is it?"

Natalie dropped her voice. "You have to take it away."

"What?" There was a confused frown as Jo quickly glanced around.

Natalie's voice rose. "Take it away, Jo! I don't want to know what I know about you!" She was breathing heavily now.

Jo regretfully shook her head negatively. "Nat..."

"I can't function as a reporter." Natalie's brow wrinkled with frustration. "Do you know how hard it was for me to explain why I gave up my interview with Sam Holder?"

"Sam Holder…" Jo thought for a second. "One of the aides to the mayor?" She questioned, not quite sure.

"Yes! I passed on it!"

Natalie was becoming a bit panicked and Jo felt, honestly... helpless. She grimaced internally. It was indeed a conundrum; one she didn't really have an easy solution to.

Natalie blinked at her. "Because I can't report on government officials remember?" She said. She took a hard seat on the metal bench, raking a hand full of hair off of her face as she did.

Jo sighed and sat down beside her friend. "Nat. There are other stories." Okay, she had to wince at that. Not exactly the most sympathetic choice of words.

It was met with an incredulous look. "That's your answer?" Natalie abruptly stood. "Great, fine. Well here's mine. Induce me." Blue eyes bored into green.

Jo looked up, holding the gaze. "We can't do that."

"Why not?" Natalie put her hands on her hips; her frustration was teetering on full-blown anger.

Jo stood, brushing off her slacks as she did. "For one, we're past the time limit. Two, there's no way you'd be able to account for lost time." She hoped that would explain things enough.

"I'm not following. You said I could be induced today," Natalie questioned.

"By ten this morning," Jo reminded. "It's past one in the afternoon," she said and regretted the hopeless and sorrowful look on Natalie's face.

"Nat, I'm sorry." Damn protocol. _She doesn't deserve this_.

"This isn't fair!"

Jo tried to be reassuring. "It would just be too hard to explain your whereabouts. Think about what you would say to Tootie. Nat you would've lost an entire day."

It was true. But that's just how the drugs work. They couldn't risk using it for affecting more than a few hours for fear of harming an individual. It was recommended for use within an eight hour range the first time. Natalie's situation was a bit trickier. They had discussed her situation, making a final decision the best solution was _not_ to induce her twice within an eight hour period.

"Oh God, there goes my entire career. Great, just great." The reporter sat back down, cradling her head in her hands. "This sucks on so many levels."

Jo was at a loss for words. She watched as Natalie looked up at the steel building in front of her. It was all encompassing. Tall, strong, cold and deceitfully confining.

"Nat," she sighed, placing a soothing hand on her friend's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I really am."

"Yeah." Natalie gave Jo a halfhearted smile. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and stood. Exhaling heavily, she turned and took at the giant statue in the middle of the atrium: The Loom. _The loom of doom. Just like me.._. _doomed_. Sighing she stared at the old world loom. She cocked her head to the side for a second, thinking.

"Look, Nat. I have to get back to work," Jo checked her watch. She turned to walk back towards the entrance of the lobby.

Natalie quickly stood up. "Wait a minute..."

"What?" Jo stopped, turning back around.

Natalie slowly started to nod her head, a brief smile breaking upon her face. "Maybe my not-so-dimwitted roommate was on to something after all."

 _Oh boy_. Caution bells went off in Jo's head. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about doing an exclusive on my good friend, the newly appointed President of Warner textiles, Blair Warner!" Natalie's smile got bigger as she waited for Jo to validate her _genius_ idea.

A blank stare _,_ then there was a bit of quiet contemplation. _Hmm…eh._ "Go for it." Jo turned again, making her way towards the revolving door.

Nat followed close behind, feeling a new sense of purpose. "And I have _you_ to help me."

Jo stopped again. "Forget it, Nat." She gave her a menacing glare.

Natalie ignored it. "C'mon! You're practically working for her."

" _With_ her. I told you this is research for JTI." Jo was becoming slightly annoyed now. She internally rolled her eyes at Natalie's relentless and disbelieving expression.

"Look, her goons in there won't let you past the lobby, so forget it." Jo attempted to make the point. She tipped her head toward the three guards at the sign-in station.

"That's where you can help me!"

"Not likely." Jo really wished she would knock off the crazy optimistic smile. It looked maniacal. She knew whenever Natalie got an idea in her head it was almost impossible to persuade her otherwise.

"Why not?" Natalie questioned.

"They barely tolerate me," Jo said.

Natalie looked through the glass doors. "What's their problem?"

"Loyalty," Jo practically sneered.

"You're Blair's friend," Natalie tried to rationalize.

"Evidently that doesn't matter in the corporate world."

Jo tried to suppress a forlorn look. Truth was, she was still a little unnerved by Blair's 'corporate decision' to _escort_ her out of the building. It stung. _Yes it did_... or more _smarted_ than anything else. They had both decided to bury it for now.

Natalie gazed at her curiously. "What happened?"

Jo twisted her lips in a cynical expression, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "She threw me out." It was stated nonchalantly.

Both eyebrows shot up on Natalie's forehead. "What'd you do?"

 _I do_? That sounded like an accusation and it, frankly, rubbed Jo the wrong way. "What do you mean!?"

Natalie crossed her arms over her chest and pinned Jo with a staid look. "This is the two of you we're talking about here, Jo. Spill it."

A smirk. "I have no idea."

The reporter gave her friend an unconvinced expression that held for a few moments... long enough to be irritating. Jo took a breath. "I'm serious. She won't tell me and I'm tired of asking. I have a job to do."

With that, Jo went through the revolving doors. Natalie, fast on her heels, rode around with her. She wasn't deterred. She smiled, her mind made up. "Perfect. So maybe I can find out."

Jo regarded her. "Maybe you'll leave it alone, Nat," she said a little incensed. They'd slowed down, and remained out of earshot of the guards' station.

 _You know me better than that, Jo._ Natalie rocked back on her heels. _Perhaps, I'll lead with another question_ : "Do you think she's still mad at you for coming out?"

Green eye's visibly turned a deeper green, Natalie noticed. Jo swallowed. _Whoa_. She didn't really expect that. Jo blinked in silent shock as her voice took on an affected tone. "She was mad at me?"

 _Ok… this is why I'm a_ _ **cub**_ _reporter. Got a lot to learn, Green! Lead with the right question, not the one that gives away the story_ _before there is one_. "Wha-? N-no! She just didn't want to talk about it. At all." Natalie finished a bit shakily.

That was an obvious back-pedal. Jo's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Really."

"Totally quiet on the plane ride home. Whenever Tootie and I tried to bring up the subject, she'd politely change it." Natalie concluded. The cat was out of the bag now. _Might as well name it._

Jo nodded slowly, biting the inside of her lip. She didn't know why that bit of information sent a wounded pang through her, but it did. She felt helpless about it, so she stuffed it down, for now. _Maybe Eric was right_.

She watched as several employee's went through security; then checked her watch again. "Uh, look Nat I have to get back up there. I'll put in a good word for you with Blair, how's that?" She forced a smile.

"I need clearance to get upstairs," Natalie stated the obvious, flicking her eyes over at the big, burly guard, Doug - who was watching them when not swiping employee badges. She didn't really feel like getting into blows with them though, she thought. Keep first things first. The story.

"I'll come back later. Maybe tomorrow," she amended. She needed to get clearance on her proposal first. Her boss being the only stumbling block besides Blair, of course. But she'd make it a priority to work on that.

"I'll work on that for you." With that Jo quickly moved through security with no problems. She waved to Natalie who waved back.

Natalie watched as Jo moved around the corner and out of sight. She smirked at security, then turned and walked out of the building toward her car... making a plan as she did so.

 _Blair Warner's rise to power. This has juicy story written all over it._ She unlocked the car door. _Now if only Hanson will give me the green light!_

* * *

Jo had rolled her sleeves up and was steadily working on workflow solutions for the capstone project. Typing then reviewing her notes every now and then - she heard the distant pinging of the executive elevator. _Probably Blair_. She kept working, reviewing her notes.

The light clicking of footsteps grew close; the air wafted of perfume. Jo shook her head. It was amusing how Blair's scent preceded her arrival into a room.

"How was lunch?" She kept her eyes glued to the screen, sensing the swift movement of the blonde executive past her desk.

"Fabulous."

That sounded harsh, and it got Jo's attention. Her hands stilled over the keyboard as the office door was flung open and Blair swiftly entered the room.

Jo sighed. She knew the cues. She slowly got up - picking up her pad and pencil. _May as well get some things done in the process._ She stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Brown eyes glanced up at Jo from across the room. Blair was sitting at her desk, checking her email. "What is it, Jo?"

"I have a few questions I need to ask you. It's part of the procedure." Jo tapped the top of her pad with a pen.

"Can't this wait?" Blair sent an agitated look toward her office mate.

It wasn't lost on her. You don't have to tell me twice. "Sure. Just let me know." Jo started to close the door.

A sigh. "Wait, Jo. Come in. Let's get this over with." Blair ran fingertips through her bangs.

"Are you alright?" Jo asked as she made her way to sit in front of the desk. Crossing one leg over the other.

"I'm fine." Blair had her to-go box from the restaurant open and took a bite of bread before closing the lid and pushing it to the side. _Not hungry._ She placed her hands in her lap, clasping them together, and then got comfortable in her chair. "Fire away."

Jo turned to her notes. "Ok, let's see." She looked up into waiting brown eyes. "What's the first thing you do when you sit down at your desk in the morning?"

"Check my emails and answer them," Blair responded.

"Who do you talk with first?"

"Usually my chief financial officer."

Jo nodded her head. "And next?"

"VP's of marketing and advertising."

"They have daily reports for you?"

"Not every day. At least three times a week on average."

Jo scribbled down a few answers. "And next?"

"I look at our stocks."

"What if they're down?"

Blair took a moment to think, her eyes never leaving Jo's. "Usually I get emails from shareholders immediately and I answer them as best I can."

"You mean to appease them," Jo gave her a knowing look.

"For the most part," Blair admitted.

A nod. "Who is the main shareholder you have to answer to."

"My father."

Not surprising. "And then who?"

"Agnes Steinbruner."

"And then?"

"Miles Winstead." Blair shifted in her seat a little.

A few scribbles. "Who's in charge of security?"

"Doug Fairmount."

"Who is Amanda Palmero?"

"She's a friend of… wait a minute, Jo." A blonde brow rose.

Jo kept her composure. "I just assumed she had something to do with the company since she was here earlier." That was met with a slow blink.

Jo continued. "I mean your security clearance is pretty selective wouldn't you say? She'd have to be pretty important if she got through so easily and say... " She shrugged. "Natalie or Tootie had a hard time."

Blair inhaled. _I get it_. "Or you." A squint. "You still want me to explain that."

Was that a question or accusation - Jo couldn't decide. She waved it off. "No. I'm good, really I am."

Blair didn't really believe her, but her day was going off the rails as it was, so she agreed to let it go. "Are you done?"

"You didn't answer my last question." Jo was steadfast. She quietly observed the woman in front of her. She knew Blair. Knew when she was being vague.

"She's just a friend of mine. We met at a gallery party and that's it. Are you finished?"

Jo uncrossed her legs. An almost overwhelming sense of foreboding overcame her. It wasn't lost on her the attitude Blair's friend had toward her. It made her feel damn uncomfortable. For all she knew, it may have been brought on by something completely and totally shallow, she had reasoned. Wouldn't be the first time. Nonetheless, Jo wasn't going to be satisfied until she resolved it. She closed her pad. "For now."

"Thanks." Jo gave Blair a tight grin before standing and heading for the door.

She turned around. "I'll be out here gathering my things together… shouldn't take long. Just go over a few notes and I'll be out of your hair." She opened the door.

Blair thought for a second. "Jo, wait."

Jo stopped and waited.

"What time are you coming in tomorrow?"

 _Good question_. "I don't know. You tell me." This time she would respect Blair's wishes, as she had put it. No more off the cuff plans... at least that she knew of at the moment.

"How's nine sound?" Blair asked.

Oh, now she's _asking_ me? "No problem. Anything else?"

"No. No, that's it." Blair held a hand up.

"Okay then." Jo stood there for a moment, in case Blair wanted to ask her something else. She could hear the faint sounds of daily activities going on around the office floor. When she saw Blair go back to reading her emails, she closed the door then sat down at her desk.

Tapping the back of her ear, she started to close down her laptop. "I'm packing up for the day. Got anything new for me?"

 _"Funny you should ask. I'm calling a meeting."_

Jo stopped her task. "When?"

 _"Now."_

"Alright give me an hour, I have to close down here, then run some errands." She opened her briefcase. "What's the meeting about?"

 _"You'll see when you get here_."

A glower. "I hate it when you're vague."

Eric chuckled. _"Don't worry, Summers and Mendoza are just as in the dark as you are."_

She threw her pad in the briefcase along with a few pens. "Good to know."

 _"And play nice with the boss. She needs to stay neutral in all of this."_

Yeah, well... "I'll play as nice as she'll let me." She put her laptop in the side slot of her bag.

" _Jo."_

"What." She knew what was coming.

" _You need to get on her good side."_

"You do realize this is Blair Warner we're talking about here."

" _And you know her as well as anyone_."

Okay, that she couldn't argue with. She conceded. "I'll make nice."

" _For the sake of the case,"_ Eric interjected.

"For the sake of the case," Jo agreed. This was, after all, about the case and the case only.

She zipped up and latched her briefcase before straightening up the desk chair. She didn't hear Blair's office door open.

"Jo?" It was so softly it almost startled Jo when she looked up to see the blonde standing behind the door. She held it against her with her head peeking out.

Jo straightened, a confused look on her face. "Yeah?"

Blair entered the lobby a little more, still staying within the confines of the half open door. "Look, um, I was thinking: I don't want us to start things off like this."

Jo didn't say anything, but instead gave the president of Warner Textiles her undivided attention.

Blair continued. "We're going to be working together for a while and I just think we should agree to at least get along while we're here at work."

Jo nodded. "I don't have a problem with that. I mean, Blair, we've known each other for what… fourteen years?"

Blair leaned on the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "Lived together for eight or so."

 _Yes._ Jo locked knowing eyes with Blair with a small upturned crooked smile. "Argued, fought and cried together," she supplemented.

 _Yeah, yeah we did_. Blair smiled back. Her eyes lighted a little; she sighed, resting her head slightly on the back of the door as she gazed into green eyes... that held for a moment before dropping. "Then this shouldn't be so hard, right?" she said gently.

"Right," Jo cleared her throat. "Right. This should be pretty easy." She looked back up at Blair.

A nod. "Ok, then. I'll see you at nine sharp." Blair started to move back into her office.

"I'll be here with bells on," Jo stated. She gathered her jacket, then stopped herself. "Hey Blair?"

Blair opened the door before it closed completely. "Yes?"

 _Make nice Jo_. "I, uh... do you have any plans for this evening?"

Blair stood still. Surprised. No. Apprehensive, maybe, described the look on her face at the invitation. Perhaps it's a gesture to appease. _Yes that's it_. What else could it be... really. "I'll have to check my calendar, why?"

"Well I was just thinking, since we've agreed to get along."

Blair tilted her head curiously. "Yes?" She asked almost hopefully.

Jo kept going. "That maybe, dinner or drinks or whatever you want." She was starting to lose steam now.

Blair threw her a bone. She knew that wasn't easy, and she actually found herself quite charmed at the effort. "Business dinner." She flicked hair out of her eyes.

 _Right, business dinner._ "Yes. That way I can ask you a few more questions about your position." Keep things in perspective, Jo.

Blair gazed at Jo through half lidded eyes. "Got it. Dinner and business." A toothy smile.

It was contagious, and Jo couldn't help but smile back in kind. "A business dinner."

Blair's eyes held and she felt a wave of pure joy run through her at the aspect of having dinner with... an old friend. And she didn't bother to analyze it because this was a day she wanted behind her any way she could manage to do that. "Strictly business." Came the breathy confirmation.

"What about seven? You name the place." Jo finished her rather open invite.

"Seven's fine Jo, and maybe you should name the place. After all, you asked me." Blair said a little coyly.

 _True_. "Ok. I'll think about it and then text you." Jo watched as Blair checked her watch. _Probably late for another meeting._

"Do that." Blair gave her a playful glare then swiftly turned and closed her office door.

Jo stood there for a moment. She was quite proud of herself she had to admit. Breaking the ice with Blair had always been something she cared little for but this was different. This was, as her friend had stated, just business.

 _"Looks like you've planted the seeds. Nice work, Jo."_

Jo moved toward the elevators then glanced back at Blair's office door before pressing the down button. "Yeah, well... I'm tired of all the tension."

She retrieved her phone, bringing up a search engine and typing in 'Manhattan Restaurants.' The doors slid opened and she stepped into the elevator as she perused the various businesses - trying to find one that was both impressive and didn't break the bank.

* * *

 **Chapter 8 is fast on this one's heel's! Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Tootie over here!"

Natalie was parked on the street across from the Grammerson Playhouse Theater. It was pouring down rain and that made it hard for Tootie to make out the small car. She spotted it, then dashed her way across the street.

She stopped, umbrella in hand, looking down at the small river running between her and the door. She bent over and tapped on the car window. "Natalie, pull up or I'm going to drown trying to get in!" she yelled, trying to balance on the curb.

Natalie nodded, then moved the car up a few feet, clearing the small stream.

Tootie quickly got in, her umbrella hitting the roof of the car. She was struggling to get it closed.

"Tootie!"

"It won't go down!" She pulled several times before the apparatus gave way. _Finally_. She closed the door then turned to her friend. "What took you so long?"

"I had to do some groveling," Natalie pulled into traffic. Her windshield wipers were on high and batting back and forth.

Tootie gave her a disbelieving stare: "You? Grovel?"

Natalie nodded, trying to concentrate on staying in the right lane. It was a hard rain and everything was a blur.

"What happened?"

She gave her a side smirk. "I may or may not be doing a piece on someone we both know very well." _There, that should spark her._

"Who?"

"Guess."

"I hate it when you make me guess," Tootie whined.

Natalie spared her confounded friend a look. "C'mon."

Tootie sat back, adjusting her chair. "I don't know... Blair?"

"Nope!" Natalie produced a smug smile.

"Wait," Natalie slid Tootie an annoyed side eye. "You're no fun, Tootie, you know that?"

 _Ha!_ "You don't give me enough credit, Nat." Tootie rested her head on the headrest; smiling internally.

"I don't give you enough credit?" Natalie stopped at a red light.

Eyes closed, nodding, Tootie wore a self-satisfied grin.

"Okay, it was a great idea to do a story on Blair," Natalie gripped the wheel with a begrudged half sulk.

Tootie cracked an eye open. "So, Harris gave you the green light?"

"Only if my rough draft is convincing enough," she turned the corner then pulled up to the curb of their apartment. The rain had slowed to a sprinkle.

Tootie opened the door, then got out. She noticed Natalie was still sitting in the car with the motor running. She stuck her head back in. "Why aren't you getting out?"

"I have another meeting… with Harris. He wants to give some pointers."

Tootie accepted that. "Oh, okay. What do you want for dinner?"

Natalie waved a hand. "Just pick anything, Toot."

Tootie struggled to keep a completely shocked look from gracing her facial features. "What about your diet? I was thinking about ordering pizza."

"Screw the diet. Get it with everything on it." And with that, Natalie reached across the seat and closed the door, leaving a very confused New York City actress to gather her wits on the busy sidewalk ...drizzle and all.

She stared at the tiny car as it moved back into traffic. _What is becoming of this world?_

* * *

The marble floors were cold, echoing the somber footsteps as they made their way down the seemingly _long_ hall. A sigh was exhaled. There was a tap or two on the door.

"Come in."

David Warner straightened as he eyed his visitor. He took in the smug appearance. _We'll just see how long that lasts._

He was romancing a scotch on the rocks as he sat perched on the edge of his desk. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up. His necktie had been thrown on the couch.

"Have a seat, Robert."

His nephew did as he was told.

David made his way over to the drink cart in his study. He pointed to the crystal container full of scotch. "Drink?"

Robert shook his head. "Trying to cut back."

"It's after hours," David pointed out. He pulled the cork out and held it.

That was quietly met with a vacant look.

"Suit yourself," he pushed the cork back in as he returned to his perch on the edge of the desk; grabbing his scotch. "How long are you in town?"

"Couple of days. I'll be seeing Blair in the morning," he waited a beat. "I barely got back to Tokyo, then you send for me again," Robert fluffed his tie. "Are there any new developments?"

David eyed him, letting him finish. "Let's cut the niceties."

Robert screwed his lips up at that. "As you wish," he acquiesced.

David slid off the desk, setting his glass down. "Don't play games with me, son," his voice held a low register.

Robert scoffed. "I don't know what you mean." He glanced around the office for effect.

"Why the hell did you tell Blair about the warehouses?!" David's nostrils flared.

Robert tried his best not to flinch. He covered by looking his uncle square in the eye. "She would've found out sooner or later. I was just doing my duty by letting her know." He took a half step back. "After all, it's _my_ division," he puffed out his chest a little.

"You jackass! You don't see what you've done do you?" David kept his eyes locked on Robert's... almost daring him to look away.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me." Robert crossed his arms over his chest.

"Blair's smart, she's not going to let it go that two of our most productive warehouses have been destroyed!"

Robert allowed that to sink in for a bit. "Well, no I guess that does indeed come with being president, doesn't it, uncle." He gave him a mocking smile.

David gave him a disgusted look as he turned and grabbed his glass, taking a long drink.

Robert continued to chide him. "I mean, she just needs to know what we tell her correct?"

David wiped at his mouth. "Wrong! She has a direct line to Matasuki now!"

Robert's face dropped. "What? Why would you do that?!" It was his turn to feel confounded.

"My hand was forced. If I didn't offer a solution she would've started digging… and we can't have that." David's expression was part angry part adamant.

 _Shit!_ "She doesn't know about the money, does she?"

David shook his head. "She'll never know about that… as long as you keep your damn mouth shut!" His temper was rising and a bit of spittle shot out of his mouth.

Robert pursed his lips. "I did what I was supposed to do. You said to hide it and I did."

"You can't hide that much money, son," David eyed him.

"It's in the offshore account like you said. It's holding." Robert felt the need to appease the man now.

David pointed a finger at him. "It's going to stay there until this whole thing blows over."

"And then what?" Robert took an almost relived breath.

A shrug. "I don't know. It'll have to be moved." Concern etched David's face.

"I could hide it," Robert offered with conviction.

David sneered at him. "Don't even think about it."

"You don't trust me." It wasn't a question.

David barked out a bitter chuckle. He finished off the last of his scotch, aware of Robert watching him with disdain.

"I'm not my father!"

David flicked a hard gaze over his nephew. "No, you're not," came the flat reply.

Robert ignored the direct insult. "You've never given me a chance."

"Son, I've given you a top level position. What more could you want?" David sighed.

Robert glared at his uncle. "You mean you've banished me," he snapped. "Sure it's great to be an executive, but you send me off to Tokyo, away from the family, my father!" Robert's face was red, his tone dripping with resentment.

"Our meeting is over, you know what you have to do," David turned his back.

Robert shook his head defiantly. "No! Not this time! You don't get to dismiss me!" a balled fist beat the side of his leg.

David turned back around. "Robert." _Let's not do this, son_.

"I'm not an irresponsible man like my father was!" His eyes bored into David's.

"I never said you were." David knew that to some degree. He leveled a stern look at his nephew.

"Oh, but I beg to differ. I got the message loud and clear, dear uncle!"

 _And there it is_. It was deliberate and David didn't appreciate it... but he expected it.

He kept his face expressionless. "You will never get over the fact that Blair is the president of this company now."

Robert sniffed with contempt. "She doesn't deserve it." His disdain for Blair was all too apparent.

 _Idiot_. David felt incensed. "And you do?" _You think I'd trust you at the helm?_

"I've worked twice as hard as she has!" Robert seethed.

David rounded on him. "Doing what? Back room deals? Cover ups? Bribery?!"

Robert was silent. The muscles in his jaw were twitching.

David got in his face. "You think I didn't know?" He shook his head giving his nephew a rueful, knowing grin.

"I brought the company a lot of money and you know it!" Robert wouldn't give him the satisfaction of backing down.

"THIS company has a reputation of being honest and transparent!" David punched the words out.

Robert hiked a brow. "Really?! You _honestly_ believe that?" His face curled into a knowing sneer. "Your own father was the biggest crook out _of_..."

He didn't see it coming. The young executive had doubled over after a swiftly moving fist connected with his stomach. It was just enough to knock the wind out of him and shut him up. David watched as he coughed a few times. He took in a deep breath.

"You keep your damn mouth shut or you're out of the company. How's that for honesty?"

* * *

"Hey, any idea what this is about?" Jo stepped into the briefing room, closing the door behind her.

"Probably a routine briefing," Agent Summers responded. The blonde haired woman was notoriously always prepared - note pad and pen at the ready.

"He made it sound urgent," Agent Mendoza supplied. He was perched by the window.

"Then I have no idea," Summers sat back and took in Jo's appearance. "It still raining outside?"

Jo tried to fluff wet hair. She had almost, _almost_ gotten her helmet on before the sky opened up and dumped about fifty buckets of rain on her. "Stopped about ten minutes ago," came the brusque reply.

The door abruptly opened and Eric quickly made his way over to the table, taking a seat. "Glad everyone's here. Let's start."

He opened a folder. "First things first. Summers, any leads on the warehouses?"

A head shake. "No leads."

Eric checked off a mark. "Mendoza?"

"Same. No leads." He came over to the table and took a seat.

"Polniaczek?"

"Nothing new."

Eric nodded, then put his elbows on the table. "Alright. As we all know, Blair Warner was told about the warehouses and is getting daily briefings from the Tokyo investigation team." He looked at his paper. "Matasuki is the lead guy over there."

Jo interrupted. "She's been extremely private about that. I haven't heard anything concerning the warehouses from her."

Eric considered that. "Probably because they still have nothing to go on." He held up a sheet of paper. "I have the latest report from forensics - no leads. Nothing." He passed it around.

"So what now?" Summers asked, examining the report.

Eric knitted his fingers together. "There is a new development... and it's not good." He waited for all eyes to be on him.

All three looked over at the head agent. "You remember the one hundred eighty million in that off shore account Warner told us about?"

"Yeah," Mendoza cocked his head to the side. "It's still there or are you going to tell us it's gone."

Eric picked up his pen and pointed it at him. "Very good agent," he paused, knowing they were waiting for him to confirm. "Gone. As of about an hour ago," he finished.

 _Crap_. Jo grimaced at that. "Any trace?"

"No traceable evidence so far," Eric supplied.

"Hacked?" the blonde haired agent asked.

Eric leaned back in his chair. "Analytics hasn't confirmed anything yet."

Jo thought about that. "So we don't know if it was an inside job."

Eric was careful with his words. "David Warner was cleared. We'll be getting an in-depth report on Robert Warner shortly... they are the only two people authorized for that account."

"So we need to keep focus on only transactions as we have been?" Mendoza asked.

Eric nodded. "Yes."

Mendoza and Summers had been briefed earlier about Jo's findings concerning Russell Warner's computer; nothing was verified yet as they were all waiting on the final report from analytics.

"...but keep a good trace on the financials of your departments. As soon as you see an influx, get it to analytics," he said.

"You don't think someone would be stupid enough to try and hide that much money at Warner do you?" Jo had to ask.

"Stranger things have happened," Agent Summers supplied.

Jo took a quick look at the forensics report then handed it to Mendoza. "How the hell does that much money just disappear?"

"Better question is who took it," Eric said. He looked around the table at each agent. Their faces etched in a combination of confusion and mild surprise.

Eric tapped the table with his pen for a moment, then gathered his papers, placing them in a folder. "Find out." He scooted back in his chair and stood up. "Okay, meeting adjourned."

He watched as the agents headed for the door, muttering and shaking their heads along the way. "Polniaczek, hold up for a second."

Jo turned. "Yeah?"

Eric waved her back into the room. He watched her walk over with a guarded look on her face. She stopped in front of him. "What is it?"

"I have a plan for Palmero."

That got Jo's interest. "How so?" She put a hand on her hip.

"I'm putting a human trace on her," Eric said in a matter of fact tone.

Jo dipped her head as if to hear correctly. "You're going to have her followed?"

"Not followed... reported on," Eric clarified.

The door cracked open and there was a tap as it grew wider.

"Hi, am I early?"

"Hey, Nat, what are you…" Jo held a startled expression as she watched her friend enter the room as if she worked there. Then it dawned on her as she looked at Eric, frowning. "Wait a minute."

Eric pretended not to hear his lead agent, and pulled out a seat for Natalie. "Have a seat, Ms. Green."

Natalie sat down, setting a pad and pen on the table. She addressed Eric. "I was really surprised when you called me. Normally, I would've had you come to _my_ office, which is really just a small cubicle with no walls, but well, being all secret service and all."

Natalie was downright giddy and Jo had to wonder just when the two of them had become so chummy between yesterday and today. _Huh_. She flicked her gaze between them.

A grin. "That's very thoughtful of you, Ms. Green. Actually, I have an assignment for you," Eric got straight to the point.

"Really? An assignment?" Natalie practically had sparkles in her eyes at the offer.

"Eric, I don't know about this," Jo was hesitant.

He gave Jo a reassuring look. "Relax. Ms. Green here has been cleared to do an exposé of Blair Warner."

She faced Natalie. "Really? You got it?"

"So far Harris is letting me rough it out, but yeah," Natalie smiled.

"Nat that's great." Jo was genuinely happy for her friend.

"I'm glad you agree Jo." Eric said. He wanted to get to the point. "Part of her assignment is getting to know all of Blair's friends and family."

"And I have a head start because I've known all of them for years." It was a naive proclamation, and Natalie knew it, but she did indeed have at least a running start.

Eric took a seat at his desk. "Well it seems Jo has discovered that Blair has a new friend."

Natalie's eyebrow rose. "New friend?" she turned and faced Jo. "Who?"

"Her name is Amanda Palmero," Jo stated.

"Is that with an I or an E?" Natalie grabbed her pad and pen.

"An _E_ ," Jo answered. _Well done, Nat_.

"I need you to find out as much as you can about her. Not just what Blair tells you. I need you to get a gauge on her personality," Eric made it clear.

His face became very serious. "We can bring up her public records, here: her misdemeanors and all that, with a few clicks. But, what we can't do easily, is find out her intentions. Whatever they may be."

Natalie finished scribbling, following his requests. "Got it. I can do that. You want me to follow her, too?"

"Nat, I think that might be a bit dangerous," Jo put a hand on her shoulder.

Eric nodded in agreement. "If you happen to find yourself in the same place as Ms. Palmero, you may want to keep an eye on her, but not actually follow her around," he stressed. "That would be invasion of privacy."

"And you're not a licensed professional, Nat. We don't want you taking risks." Jo was always a bit skeptical whenever the use of civilian informants was necessary on a case. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think one of her closest friends would be put in that position.

Natalie playfully scoffed at the dark haired agent. "I'll have you know that I've taken classes in spying." She sat up straight. "As a reporter we have to sometimes go through harsh times. You know... in order to get the story straight."

Jo bit the inside of her lip, tempering a smile that threatened to break out on her face. _It was cute_. "Yeah but, Nat, we don't want you to risk your life or anything."

"Look, she would never suspect me. If anything I'll make friends with her, since we both know Blair. After that, we'll hit it off and she'll sing," she shrugged.

Both agents took that into consideration. Natalie was a smart woman. Even though she was new to the company she worked for, she wasn't exactly a novice when it came to digging up evidence.

"By the way Jo, why didn't we know about this woman?"

It was a fair question. One Jo couldn't answer because she was just as surprised as Natalie.

"Evidently, she and Blair met at a gallery party recently," she said. And that was all they had on the woman.

Natalie wrote that down. "Oh. Well, you know Blair. She loves her art galleries. I'm sure she has plenty of friends from those kinds of things." She thought for a second. "What makes this one so special?"

"She was able to clear security at Warner without batting an eyelash," Jo deadpanned. It was irritating to say the least.

"Oh wow," Natalie rubbed her chin, thinking. "Who is she to Blair again?"

"Friend, art connection? Who knows?" Jo exhaled. "We just need something solid so we can add her to the file."

Natalie sat in silence mulling over the new information. She looked down at her notes. _Palmero_. "Give me few days."

* * *

It was almost nine in the evening before Blair was able to untangle herself from the confines of the 39th floor. Duty had called in the most protracted of ways - involving two impromptu meetings back to back, and a two hour long presentation by the advertising department vice president.

She had texted Jo and told her so. The brunette, herself, had been quite busy, as well. She gave Blair the address of the restaurant and informed her she'd arranged a table for two reserved under 'Polniaczeck.'

"On the left... there Hamilton." Blair pointed out the small restaurant in the midtown part of Manhattan. She tapped off the GPS on her phone.

She seldom visited this part of town, although it wasn't far from the Upper East Side at all. She just had no reason to. It was middle, working class - the businesses and apartments reflected that in their architecture. _Charming._

Blair applied a dab of lipstick and fluffed her hair out of sheer habit. She took a small hand purse from her briefcase and checked her teeth in the compact mirror. She blinked at her reflection... this wasn't a date or anything. Breathing in, she gently smiled to herself. _Business is business_.

The door opened and Hamilton helped her out of the car. "Well," she stared at the front of the eatery, pulling her suit jacket straight, "how nice."

She noticed a few pedestrians walking and jogging by - their glances a little more than casual curiosity.

"Should I wait, Ms. Warner?" her driver looked at her in question.

Blair shook her head. "No. I'll text you when I'm ready," she gave him a warm smile.

Hamilton tipped his hat and watched as Blair made her way over to the restaurant and through the front door. He'd circle the block a few times; park close by.

The restaurant was indeed quite quaint, Blair decided. It boasted an American theme of sorts. The lighting was dim as she carefully stepped up to the hostess station.

"May I help you?" a perky young woman addressed her.

Blair smiled back at her. "Polniaczek, table for two," she said. She felt a giggle threaten to escape her throat at the sound of that. It felt interesting to fire that right off her lips, she mused.

The hostess looked on her reservation chart and found the name. "Ah, yes right this way." She grabbed a menu.

Blair followed, looking around the dining room. She cracked a smile as she found green eyes locked on her. Jo smiled back, her gaze wandering over Blair's form before she dropped it; going back to being engrossed in her menu.

They arrived at the table. "Here's your table." The hostess handed Blair her menu.

"Thank you." Blair remained standing until she realized that neither the young woman nor Jo attempted to pull out her chair for her. _Right_. _Wrong place_. Biting her lip, she slightly closed her eyes, rolling them, a little embarrassed as she quickly sat.

Jo looked up. "Oh, hi."

Blair opened her menu. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not long," Jo went back to examining her options.

Blair slowly nodded. Noticing a glass of ice water had already been delivered. She took a sip. "Sooo…" Glancing around she noticed several large flat screen TV's on the surrounding walls.

"This is very nice."

Jo looked up, an irritated look on her face. "You say that like you expected something different."

 _God, here we go_. A sigh. "Jo."

"What?" A brown brow rose.

"I was merely making an observation," Blair's fingers were soothingly stroking the side of her glass. My God, Jo could be the most uptight woman ever!

"Well, then I agree with you. It's a nice restaurant," she added, then promptly went back to examining her menu.

"I'm glad we could form a consensus," Blair spoke to the back of the bill of fare. She briefly entertained the urge to snatch it out of Jo's hands.

Picking up her own list of entrées, she scanned the first page. "So, what's good here?"

Jo's head snapped back up. "Just pick something Blair. I haven't tried the whole menu."

"Fine. What would you recommend that you _have_ tried?" It was a fair question, considering Jo picked the place. One would only assume she'd know the menu somewhat.

Jo sighed as she smirked at Blair. "I've only been here a couple of times, but the shrimp is pretty good."

 _Great._ "Okay, sounds good,"Blair gave Jo a tight smile as their waitress arrived.

"Ready to order ladies?" the woman threw a couple of straws on the table and refilled their water glasses.

Blair looked at Jo, who motioned for her to go first. "Yes, I'll have the shrimp scampi, potato au gratin, steamed asparagus and a hot tea please."

"Okay, gotcha," she finished scribbling it down, before turning to Jo. "And you ma'am?"

"Number five, medium rare, baked potato, another ginger ale and side salad. French dressing. Thanks."

"Alright. Thank you. Be out in a jiff," the waitress took their menus and left.

"You got steak," Blair practically accused.

Jo sat back, popping a straw in her water glass, then taking a sip. She swallowed. "I wanted to try something different, sue me," she shrugged.

Not caring to argue further, Blair shook her head. "How's the capstone coming?" Fair question. Since this was to be a business dinner. She waited as Jo visibly searched for an answer.

"Mm, it's coming," was all she offered.

There was a little silence before Blair straightened in her chair. "Didn't you have some questions you wanted to ask me?"

Jo nodded. "I do."

Waiting... brown eyes stared, then blinked, watching with annoyance as Jo glanced casually around the restaurant. _This is ridiculous_. "Are you going to make me pull every word out of your mouth tonight?"

Jo looked at her puzzled. "What are you talking about, Blair?"

"Finally, more than two words," Blair gave her a sour expression.

Jo sat forward, she was quite frankly, feeling tired. With the new information about the missing funds - she knew things were about to get even more trying. She noticed the almost resigned look on Blair's face. To be fair, _It's probably been a long day for her too_.

"I'm sorry. It's just been a long day," Jo explained.

"No," Blair waved a hand. "It's... I've been in meetings all day and..." she paused, noticing she had Jo's full attention. "I just didn't expect to be sitting in a restaurant at almost ten in the evening," she smiled as she tucked a small lock of hair behind her ear.

 _Oh_. Jo had to agree with her. "It _is_ a little late. We can always get everything to go," she offered.

"Yes, well..." Blair sipped her water. "Actually, this is fine, Jo," she looked around the room for a second. "I'm enjoying the change of scenery," she decided. _It's actually quite refreshing_.

Jo accepted that. She thought for a moment. May as well get some work done. _Make nice_ as Eric had continually reminded her. "How are you adjusting to being president?"

Blair slowly put down her glass, not quite sure what Jo was asking. "Is this question part of the capstone project or..." She asked skeptically.

Jo smiled. "No, no, off the record. I'm just asking for me," she made a cross your heart gesture. "Promise," she flashed a toothy grin.

Blair hummed, then thought about that. "I'm managing...well, no. _Honestly?_ I hate it so far."

"Really. Why?" Jo frowned; a bit surprised. She didn't expect that.

Blair took in a breath. Where to begin? "Well, for starters, we have a major problem that has no way of being resolved at the moment so it's..."

"Frustrating," Jo finished for her. She saw Blair nod in agreement.

"And I'm constantly being judged. If it's not because I'm the owner's daughter it's because they think I'm not qualified." She thought about how Robert constantly undermined her. "It's like I have to fight to stay in my position now," she finished bitterly.

"How so?" Jo had to ask.

She had read Blair's file. She knew about most of the things Blair had neglected to mention to her... like the divorce from Cliff. Although the fact they had decided to get married in the first place threw her for a loop. She thought Blair was over him.

"Jealousy." Blair answered plain and simple. "My cousin Robert, he's the vice president of global operations; believes he deserves my position."

Jo let out a laugh. "What, he thinks he can do it better than you?" Jo knew she was purposefully digging now. She was quite intrigued however, at what Blair would say. She knew all about Robert and his propensity to handle business a little off the rails rather than by the book.

"He just wouldn't be a good fit," was all Blair offered. She didn't want to get into that side of the business tonight. She looked up and was surprised to see Jo actively listening to her. Huh, _that's rare,_ but... it felt good. She tilted her head as she felt a wave of... _something_ go right through her.

She put her straw into her ice water and stirred it for a moment before looking back up at her dinner companion. She lightly bit her lip. _Jo's eyes are so green, so_...

"Here you are ladies," their waitress said as she sat their dishes and Blair's hot cup of tea, down on the table. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, we're fine," Jo answered for the both of them. She looked to Blair for confirmation.

Blair smiled at the woman. "Thank you."

They both started digging into their meals. Jo sliced then speared a piece of steak; chewing as she addressed Blair. "So you were saying, your cousin Robert is making things difficult for you?"

"Mm hmm," Blair wiped her mouth with a napkin, nodding. "He's cut from the same cloth as my late uncle, unfortunately," she said with reproach.

She had always looked up to her uncle Russell. When she was a little girl, she had loved it when her dad and uncle would take her and Robert deep-sea fishing with them. Russell had taught her how to cast her bait; and she and Robert would often get into fishing contests: who could catch the most! She would usually just edge him out. Her mother hated it when she'd come home smelling like fish, and quite frankly, so did she! But it was worth it to spend time with her father and uncle.

Jo's fork paused over her meal. "How's he pressuring you?"

"Oh, well," Blair thought of the best way to state it. Jo seemed to be making small talk, a rarity when it came to the two of them. "It's just that we have a situation that needs immediate attention and he's putting pressure on me to resolve it quickly."

"Why's that?" Jo ate a fork full of mashed potatoes.

"It has to do with his division. Something about keeping his manufacturing team happy. I can understand that," Blair went back to eating. She wondered if she'd said too much. Some things need to be kept in the family.

Jo watched, as her blonde companion didn't bother looking up. She sensed she wanted to stop there and didn't press the issue, for now; but she'd file away that bit of information, none-the-less. _Got it_.

"You know, Blair, for what it's worth, I know you have what it takes to resolve the situation," she paused. "Whatever it is you're facing." She noticed Blair swallow then take a sip of water, not once taking her eyes off of her. Jo added a reassuring smile.

"Thank you." Oh that felt so _not_ Jo-like. Blair sat her fork down, crossing her arms over her chest and giving the unreadable brunette a questioning look. "What are you up to, Polniaczek?"

The playful tone made Jo smile. She speared another cut of meat. "Whatever do you mean?" she chewed.

 _Mmm... not sure._ Blair leaned forward. "You are being nice to me," brown eyes glinted.

Jo made an amused face. "Really, was I?"

"Yes," A nod with a bright smile, "I'd say you were being uncharacteristically nice," Blair joshed her table mate.

Jo lifted her chin playfully. "Hmm, and it never occurred to you I was just being nice because it would benefit the project?"

"Benefit how?" Blair observed the woman across from her; lifting a interested brow as she tilted her head.

Jo dabbed her mouth, clearing her throat. "Well, if you resolve the issues you have, that will give you more time to concentrate on helping me with the capstone project."

Blair gave her a knowing look. "Is that so?"

Jo nodded, taking a sip of ginger ale. "Yes."

 _Interesting_. "So, is this a diplomatic way of saying you want my undivided attention?" Blair gave Jo a teasing, rakish smile. Brown eyes captured green, and Blair could almost see the brunette regret her words. _Oh Wow_ , _is that a blush I see?_

Jo shrugged slightly. "No I just..." she thought for a moment. The sultry look she was getting from Blair doing nothing to help her stay focused. "...want the contract we have to stay on track."

Blair nodded, then chuckled. She couldn't dispute that. "Well, I guess I can't disagree with you," she stated, her eyes twinkled a bit.

"No you can't." Jo's eyes lingered before she dipped her head, smiling to herself.

Blair got comfortable in her seat. She fought a smile that eventually found its way to the surface. She regarded her friend. Maybe the California sunshine had indeed melted some of that tough Bronx exterior. She looked around the restaurant; it was still fairly occupied for how late in the evening it was. There were different baseball games on multiple televisions; the other patrons engaging in light table banter.

It was just for a fleeting moment that she found herself feeling out of sorts... _No_. That wasn't quite it. In fact, she felt... _happy_.

Her eyes passed over Jo's form. She had obviously exchanged her working attire for her regular bike wearing gear: complete with jeans and a button down dress shirt... casual. _She_ had come straight from the office.

Blair smiled warmly. "I'm glad you're back in town Jo."

Jo glanced at Blair, abandoning her meal for a second. "What made you say that?" She was genuinely surprised by the comment.

"What? I can't say something nice back to you?" Blair grinned as she bit into a piece of asparagus, munching on it.

Jo thought about that for a moment. "No," she amended herself. "I mean..." she paused again, trying to not let disappointment enter her voice. "It's just... I hadn't really heard from you in a while."

Jo was anxious to see how Blair would defend herself. She felt the months of silence, of ignoring her, was coming from _her_ side, and she wanted, or more _needed,_ to hear the 'why's' of it all.

Blair flicked hair out of her eyes, feeling she had somehow prompted Jo's reserved tone. _She's serious_. "Does that bother you?"

"No. I just assumed you were busy with work," Jo put on a forced grin. "I wasn't wrong. I mean, here you sit: President of Warner" she made a gesture toward Blair.

"Yes, well, a lot had happened," Blair sat back in her chair and picked at the tablecloth. She noticed Jo watching her, waiting for her to continue.

No time like the present. "Cliff and I are divorced. It was finalized yesterday. I'm telling you now because I didn't want you to read about it elsewhere. I was going to text Tootie and Natalie."

Jo realized her mouth was slightly open and closed it. She didn't expect that. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Blair pursed her lips. She was glad to actually tell someone... a friend.

Jo cleared her voice. "Well, it's his loss."

"He didn't do anything. I wanted out." Blair took a quick sip of tea, then set it back down on its saucer.

Brown brows lifted _. Oh_. Jo remained silent, mulling over the new information.

"What about you?" Blair's question startled her.

"What... me?" Jo thought for a second. A lot had indeed happened in the month's they were, for lack of a better explanation, otherwise occupied. "Other than my coming out and moving back to New York? Nothing really profound."

She noticed Blair nod then look down at her tea. She fingered the small handle of the cup, starring at it.

"Are you... okay with that?" Jo's voice carried a bit of concern.

Blair took another sip of tea. "With what?" she said stoically; keeping her eyes from meeting Jo's.

An internal sigh. "My sexuality. It doesn't make you feel uncomfortable does it?" Jo watched the blonde in earnest. She remembered Natalie's words and was still feeling inadequate. Still quite effected. _She's mad at me for that_.

Blair pushed around the remains of her shrimp scampi. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" She looked up, her expression one of frustration... and a little hurt.

Jo went still. She acknowledged Blair's question, and took a few moments to think of the right words to say. She shook her head helplessly. "Look, Blair, I..."

"You could've told me Jo. Trusted me." Blair's voice held a note of passion, and Jo felt powerless to fight the unfamiliar feeling of defenselessness.

"I..." she stopped herself... _wanted to_.

"I thought we were friends," Blair stated. Her throat felt tight, and she cleared it.

Jo found no solace in that. Guilt maybe? She couldn't decide, her mouth opening and closing; she had no words to offer. She just sat there, staring at the candle on the table between them.

"We... are," she finally got out. She inwardly groaned at the circumstance she was in. "You're right," Jo conceded. She looked up. "I should've trusted you."

Green eyes tried to read the myriad of expressions that seemed to be suddenly running through the blonde executive, whose face twitched with barely concealed emotion.

Blair seemed to accept that. Accept Jo's apology, for what it was at least. She regained her composure. "I don't know why you needed to keep it a secret for so long."

She punctuated her words with a firm tone resonating to the point that Jo could hear the inadequateness. Yet, it came off as somewhat condescending and Jo suddenly found herself feeling defensive.

She pursed her lips. "You know, you accuse me of keeping secrets but I didn't know you'd married Cliff until Tootie told me."

Blair jerked back slightly, not expecting the sharp change of subject. She closed her eyes, briefly, then sighed. "It was just a small family ceremony. We wanted something quick," she stated.

Jo wasn't letting her off the hook that easy. "You told everyone but me!" she gave her a dour look.

Blair sat unmoving, thinking as she drew in a breath. She allowed herself to finally look at her incensed friend. "You were busy in California with your new job and brand new girlfriend."

Jo squinted at Blair. "Really... a quick text: _Oh hi, Jo, how's everything? Oh, by the way - I'm marrying Cliff, the man I fell out of love with years ago - out of the blue!"_

There was quiet for a bit, and Blair could feel her heart beating rapidly. "Is that what you think?"

Jo was breathing heavily. "What else am I supposed to think, Blair?"

"I didn't want to bother you. You had a new life and I figured you and Mary would be happy together and, and I didn't want you to feel obligated," Blair sat back. She could hear the change in her own tone.

 _Jesus._ "It's _Terry_ , Blair!" Jo corrected loudly.

"Whatever!" Blair crossed her arms before grabbing the last of her tea, downing it.

Jo observed her as a brow went up. "What do you have against her?" she asked pointedly.

Blair hesitated, then shrugged. "Nothing. I think she's a perfectly delightful person," she sat her cup down, picking up another paper napkin. "She's perfect for you. I'm sure the two of you will be _very_ happy together," she wiped her mouth stuffing the napkin in her empty teacup.

"We're not together anymore."

There was an eerie silence for a bit; then brown eyes locked onto weary green. Jo could feel the gaze, immense and with question. She blinked, turning away; feeling a surge of vulnerability. She shooed it away. Dropping her head a bit. "It just... wasn't working."

A slight intake of breath _._ "I'm sorry..." came the quiet reply.

"I broke it off," Jo barely got the words out. She shook the ice in her glass, not meeting Blair's eyes.

 _Oh, Jo..._

"I understand." It was stated tenderly, almost soothingly.

The candle on their table flickered as the air stirred. It whipped the licking flame to beat rhythmically: casting a moving shadow on their solemn features. They sat in silence. A mutually agreeable silence, as they finished their meals, occasionally stealing a quiet glance at each other.

The flickering shadows were both consoling and telling. The visage of the two companions was one of quiet compatibility.

"Um, do you want dessert or anything else?" Jo asked.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Blair answered politely. She took her phone out of her purse, checking it. She had put it on silent for the evening. That did nothing to stop the numerous emails and text messages that had ganged up on her. It was expected, now that she was president. Her time wasn't really her own anymore. _They'll have to keep until morning_.

"It's getting late," Blair announced.

A nod. "I'll get the check," Jo reached for the bill that had been left on the table by their waitress.

"We can go half if you want," Blair immediately realized her blunder. She bit the inside of her lip, wincing a bit. _Proud Jo._

"Relax, Blair. I invited you. I'll take care of it." Jo placed her credit card in the check holder.

 _Of course._ "Thank you," Blair said.

Jo lifted a brow. "No problem."

They made their way through the dining room; Blair had texted Hamilton to bring the car around and it was waiting for her once they'd stepped out of the restaurant.

Some things never change; Jo shook her head slightly at the spectacle as Blair's driver dutifully held the door open for her. She turned to the blonde. "I'm parked over there." She pointed to her bike taking up a spot in the small restaurant parking lot.

Blair let an appreciative eye rake over Jo's bike. It was quite a step up from her old one. She turned and faced the brunette, giving her a genuine smile. "Thank you for dinner. I mean that." She placed a soft hand on Jo's shirtsleeve, her fingertips moving lightly on the material before dropping to her side.

"You're welcome," Jo nodded, having noticed the warmth of the fingertips even through the fabric of her shirt. Letting a grin creep up on one side of her mouth, she sighed. _What a day_...

What a night. They had gotten over some hurdles. Cleared some air _. Yeah._ The tension between them was... Jo looked down at her biker booted feet; then back up at Blair, who had been watching her: s _till there, a little, perhaps._ Maybe replaced with something... different.

Jo swallowed, then shook her head. It was late; they were both tired. She stuffed her hands in her pockets as she regarded her friend. "I'll see you in the morning."

Blair nodded. _Okay_.

"Bye Jo." Smiling, she turned and moved towards her car.

Jo went across the parking lot towards her bike, retrieving her helmet from one of the cargo compartments.

Blair nodded to Hamilton once inside the car. She leaned her head back on the seat as the car was slowly turned around. She spotted Jo. She was perched atop her red Harley waiting for the limousine to go past. Blair sighed, watching as Jo revved the motor. That made her smile. She blinked, then watched as the bike went out of view as Hamilton steered the large vehicle forward.

Jo gazed at the long black car as it turned and made its way back down the main street. She paused at the corner, then turned, going the opposite direction. The wind picked up and whipped at her as she gained speed: the lights of the streets flickering by.

Dinner had gone pretty well, she mused. She felt she made a few strides toward gaining some insight into the case _._ She went in knowing Blair wouldn't offer up too much regarding that.

 _Blair._ She had made her long time friend and dinner companion laugh which, she admitted, she liked the sound of. And that little crinkle of her nose whenever she was genuinely tickled by something? _It's cute... makes her look even more attractive, if that's possible_. Jo felt a warm tingle in her gut at the thought. She sighed, smiling under her helmet; her foot slipped on the gear, causing her to accelerate and swerve a bit. She righted the motorcycle just in time. _Sh- keep your head in the game Polniaczek!_

Throwing on her right turn signal, she made a turn; switching gears as she leveled the throttle and settled into a steady pace.

Jo reduced her speed as she approached a stoplight; then put a foot on the ground for balance. She drew in a breath and thought about what they'd accomplished tonight. What she'd learned. She would file half of it away for quiet contemplation, in private.

The other half?

 _Making nice sure felt a lot better than business as usual_.


	9. Chapter 9

**A quick thanks to Zebeza, my awesome Beta! Thanks for hanging in there with me this chapter. It was a lengthy one.**

* * *

"I understand, but I have a board that's breathing down my neck... yes my neck... it's just a figure of speech it means... never mind. My board is getting anxious... yes, they need something of substance... something... a lead or... yes... alright... thank you, Arigato."

Blair tossed her phone across the desk; it slid, finally stopping under a few sheets of paper. "God this morning cannot get any worse." She pulled at her bangs in exasperation.

Her office door suddenly swung open without so much as a knock.

"Blair."

 _Robert._

She smirked. _I stand corrected_.

"Good to see you," he smiled as he closed the door then strode his way across the room and over to her.

Blair watched as he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Daddy told me you were dropping by," her voice carried a pinch of dread.

"Yes well," he got comfortable. "How's business?" Robert pulled at the sleeves of his suit, not bothering to look up.

"It's... going," Blair said. She turned her chair to face a large monitor. She had been looking over an IPO report. "I just got off the phone with investigations over there. No leads," she tossed over her shoulder; clicking through the file.

"Hmm, shame," Robert sniffed.

"Yes, it's... slow moving," Blair snuck a look at her menacing cousin. She could tell his visit wasn't all about the crisis at hand. "What brings you here, Robert?"

"Oh, I had a meeting with financial and your father." He placed his elbows on the chair arms and joined his fingers together.

Blair kept her eyes on the screen. "Really? What about?"

Robert stood up then moved to sit on the edge of the desk. He leaned towards Blair. "Before I answer that, would you mind telling me who that beautiful woman is you have out there in your lobby?"

He saw the slow head turn, Blair's eyes boring into his with a daring glare. He gave her a knowing smile. _Gotcha!_ "Ah, wait, don't tell me... seeing as you have a _type_. She's just here for show," he purred.

"She's here because she's working on a project," Blair defended. She didn't need this.

"Project," Robert scoffed.

Blair faced him, annoyance written all over her face. "With me. And she's not my executive assistant." She didn't know why he needed to know that last part but...

"Who is she?" He knew he was being irritatingly persistent, but didn't care.

"Why do you need to know that Robert?" Blair looked at him defensively.

He shrugged. "I was thinking of asking her to lunch. Anything I need to know?"

"She's not interested," Blair turned back around, clicking on another screen.

Robert looked her over for a beat, gauging her body language - which was stiff and almost hostile. _Uh huh_... "How would you know?"

"Because I've known her for almost fourteen years, lived with her for eight and... I know," Blair snapped. She typed in a few characters.

"Wait... she's one of those girls you used to live with in Peekskill, right?" It started to dawn on him, and Robert rubbed his chin in thought.

He noticed Blair's lack of a response. _Oh this is good_. "I think I remember now. You used to go on and on about that girl from the Bronx. Man you would not shut up about her." He was smiling almost wildly now. "That's her isn't it?" He had only spoken with Jo briefly, but detected a bit of the peculiar accent.

Blair took a peek at him. "I have a business to run, Robert."

Robert shook his head. He lowered his voice as he leaned forward. "Tell me, Blair, does she know you have a _thing_ for her?"

Brown eyes snapped up to bore into Roberts. "What the hell are you talking about? Jo's an old friend."

"Are you sure about that?" A wicked smile. Robert wiggled his eyebrows.

"Stop that."

Robert stifled a grin as he sat back. He noticed the blush covering Blair's face as she started typing furiously. "You don't have to look very far to see the evidence," he paused. "She's who you really want, isn't she?" A teasing whisper.

"You're crazy."

Robert chuckled. "Does Amanda know?" He placed his tongue in his cheek.

"They've met and everything went well. So drop it, Robert," she shot back at him.

Robert held his hands up in mock surrender. "I was just making an observation."

Blair turned, giving him a flash of a hard smile. "Was there something in particular you wanted?" _You fucking weasel_.

"Nope." Robert loosened his tie a little. "Just wanted to see how you were handling things. How has it been being head honcho?"

Blair smirked at him. She wasn't surprised he'd get to that. "Swell. And you never told me what you and Daddy discussed." She was going to hold him to that.

Robert let out a small laugh. "Oh, that's right, we're being more transparent, aren't we."

"I don't think that would be such a bad idea," Blair said evenly.

"The warehouses are still in ashes and no leads," Robert replied a little too quickly.

"I already knew that. Anything else I need to know?"

"That's all we talked about and since you're the connection over here for Matasuki, I'm sure he'll keep you up to date."

"He has," Blair said as she sat motionless; eyeing her aggravating cousin.

Robert clapped his hands together in finality. "Well then I guess there's nothing left to discuss." He slid off the desk.

Blair stood along with him, hoping he'd catch her gesture and head for the door. "How long will you be here?" She took a few steps forward.

Robert followed. "Oh, I thought I'd stay over for a day or two. Things are going great for the northern division, so I'm taking a small, much deserved break," he flashed a smile.

"How nice for you," Blair knew she sounded condescending and didn't care.

Robert took it as a slight and peered at Blair with an air of quiet distain. "Don't tell me it's not all fun and games being president."

 _Well, well. Took you long enough_. "Not all of the time but..." she paused for effect, "I wouldn't trade it for any other executive position."

Now THAT was a slight, and Robert's face dropped at the affront - much to Blair's internal delight.

There was a tap on the door. "Blair?"

 _Bad timing, Jo_. Blair felt the alarms go off when she saw her cousin's eyes light up at the sight of the brunette. In that moment she realized she needed to get him back on a plane to Tokyo as soon as humanly possible.

She decided, instead, to control the situation. Play along. "Jo, have you met my cousin Robert?" she said with a cool smile, pushing him on the shoulders in order to casually guide him through the door.

"Hi, nice to meet you," Jo said, her smile faltering a little, giving the two of them a curious look.

"Hello there. Blair's told me so much about you," Robert said, letting a lazy smile slide onto his face. He pushed back on Blair, while his eyes roamed Jo's face.

"She has?" Jo lifted a brow, glancing at Blair who was doing her best to remove the man from the room.

"Robert was just leaving," Another shove. She had almost gotten him out of the door.

Robert decided to have a little fun at Blair's expense and actually laughed as he was being formally tossed out. "Was I?"

Blair managed to get him out in the lobby, leaving Jo standing in her office. "Yes, and please tell my father I'll be speaking with him about your division later on today."

She twisted around, hand on doorknob. "One second Jo, excuse us," then slammed the door.

"But I barely got to know your friend," Robert mocked whined.

Blair grabbed him by the elbow guiding him toward the elevator. "Please leave," she pushed the down button.

"What are you afraid of, Blair?" he whipped his arm from her grip.

Blair remained stoic as she waited for the elevator to arrive. She pretended to check her watch, then flipped her hair.

"I should've known," he eyed her, "Oh this is priceless," Robert said hatefully, as a knowing smile etched his face. "You don't want her to know, do you?"

The elevator door pinged as it slid open. _Finally_. "Your carriage awaits," Blair motioned for him to enter the steel box.

Robert ignored her. "She doesn't know about your... tendencies, does she?" he glanced at her office door.

Blair huffed, then pushed her cousin into the elevator. "And she's not going to from you! Now leave, Robert!"

He allowed himself to be pushed, all the while laughing as Blair reached in and pressed the lobby button. "Oh, this is just perfect," he sniped.

The doors started to close and Blair let out a sigh of relief. "Please go," she said it in an almost small voice.

"If I were you, I'd be nicer to me." Robert's face looked spiteful as the doors slid together.

* * *

Natalie had been standing in front of the giant oil painting for the last ten minutes. It was huge and very blue, with a splash of gold. There were swirls and other confusing brush strokes. She craned her neck to read the title: "Blue sea in the morning." _Okay, it could be. There are a lot of long lines and blue, blue, blue everywhere - that could be the sea_.

"Hello."

Natalie was startled out of her assessment. She turned to see a dark haired woman smile as she stood beside her, admiring the painting.

Natalie gestured toward it. "Interesting, uh... movement." _So I suck at art speak._ She shrugged to herself at that.

"Yes, it's one of Hoffman's lighter works," the woman commented.

"Ah, yes. Loved his stuff for years," Natalie lied.

The brunette looked at Natalie a bit puzzled. "He's actually debuting his work this weekend... one of our newest artists," she informed.

 _Oh, right_. Natalie covered her faux pas by offering her hand and a tight smile. "Natalie Green."

"Amanda Palmero," she shook Natalie's hand. "I'm the head curator here," she informed.

 _Oh, here we go_. "Nice to meet you."

Amanda smiled. "Are you interested in his works? Or..."

Natalie laughed a little nervously, "Oh, no I'm just browsing... looking. I'm looking and... feeling." _Feeling?_

Amanda looked at her with a skeptical eye. "I see. Well if you should need anything," she smiled then started to turn away.

"Actually, I was wondering if you except donations." It was all Natalie could come up with, thinking quick on her feet.

"Yes. We are always open to donations," the brunette brightened.

"Oh, good." _Okay Green where the hell are you going with this?_ "I… is there a donor's list?"

Amanda nodded affirmatively. "There is," she paused. "Did you have a specific amount you wanted to donate?" she asked.

"Yes. Well," Natalie thought for a moment. "I'm sure you have a lot of private donors," she mentioned.

If anything was ever evident, Natalie actually understood the nature of the art business when it came to private dealings. Especially when it had to do with potentially large sums of money. Blair had trained her well.

Amanda drew in an understanding breath. "Privacy is very much understood here. If that's what you prefer," she offered.

"I would. I mean, I can only imagine if say, a major corporation were to donate a large sum of money to an art gallery." Okay, that was a bit murky she realized, though a not so subtle question.

Brown brow's knit in puzzlement. "I'm not following."

"Well, like one of the financial, uh places _." Smooth Green_. Natalie did an internal eye roll at herself.

Amanda decided to address the question directly. "We have a few donors from that sector."

"What about say... commodities?" Natalie asked.

"Commodities?"

"Yeah. You know," Natalie cleared her voice, "plastics, rubber, uh, cotton, filaments, fur skin, um… special woven or tufted fabrics?" _You can stop me at any time_.

"I see," Amanda gave the rambling woman a blank look. "Do you mean textiles, perhaps?"

Natalie held up a finger. "Ah, that's the name I was searching for. Yes!"

"Well, in that case, we do have a major donor from that sector, as well."

It was the opening she was looking for. "Let me guess... Warner Textiles?" Natalie watched as the curator absorbed that. The woman had such a humorless look on her face.

"I'm really not allowed to divulge that information."

"Oh well, I was just wondering because I have a friend who works there who just loves art and, well, I'm sure if they knew of this gallery they would be willing to give a couple of bucks or something," Natalie finished. She'd laid the hook out and was now waiting for the bait to be taken.

"Really. Who is this friend of yours?" Amanda asked. Her interest was genuinely piqued.

"Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't want me to expose their identity," Natalie replied surreptitiously. _Here fishy, fishy, fishy_.

"Of course," Amanda smiled.

"But, because you said you understand privacy, I'm sure I can trust you to keep her name private," Natalie pressed.

Amanda hiked a brow. "It's a woman?"

"And not just any woman. She's a very close friend of mine." There. That needed to be clear, she thought to herself.

"You're going to make me guess... I really have nothing to go on." Amanda tried to reason.

"Blair Warner. President of the... place," Natalie blurted.

Amanda remained silent. She already found Natalie quite peculiar; not to mention the mere mention of knowing Blair and being a friend of hers was something she didn't anticipate. She flicked her gaze over the chatty woman. "Is that so?"

Natalie indulged the curator. "Have you two met?"

"Yes. Actually I know Blair quite well," Amanda blinked then smiled pleasantly.

"Oh, well then. Wow! What a small world huh?" Natalie felt like she was on a bit of a roll now.

Amanda looked at the reporter with a stealthy grin. "It is indeed. How long have you known Blair?" She tilted her head in question.

"Oh, thirteen, almost fourteen years. We used to live together." Natalie saw the curator give her a startled look before covering it up. Okay, maybe a better choice of words.

"Really?" Amanda questioned.

Oh, pffft, sorry, that sounded weird. Allow me to clarify. We were roommates for eight years."

That didn't seem to help the situation as the woman before her had an even more concerned look on her face.

Natalie cleared her throat. "Okay, let me try that again. We went to school together."

"Oh, of course," Amanda nodded slowly; she seemed to be in thought, Natalie observed.

"How long have you known Blair?" Natalie decided to turn the tables.

"Not long. Would you like me to give you a tour?" Amanda sharply answered.

Natalie didn't expect the abrupt cut-off of their conversation. "Yeah, sure. That would be great." She almost felt like she was shoved out of it as the curator indicated the hall containing a multitude of oil paintings.

"Wonderful. Just let me make a call and I'll be right with you," Amanda smiled as she began to walk down the hallway toward her office.

"Sounds great," Natalie retrieved her cell then quickly dialed a number, watching as the woman turned the corner.

 _Who does she remind me of?_

* * *

"One minute, Jo."

They had been going over the most recent financial reports when Blair's phone suddenly chimed. She looked at it, seeing Natalie's name. "Hello, Nat?"

" _Blair, just listen, don't talk. I'm down at the art gallery, uh, VillaManzi, don't talk, just listen. I met the curator here, Amanda Palmero; she said she knows you. I said I know you, we went to school together and I promised you'd donate a few dollars to the place_."

"Nat."

" _Don't talk! She's probably going to call you to verify. I'll explain later. Just write them a check, Okay? Okay. Something over five hundred dollars, I don't know, don't worry I'll pay you back... don't hold me to that. Oh and Tootie owes me twenty dollars, she said you'd stay married to Cliff for a year, I said yeah right. We both saw the article in the Times, so it was no surprise when you texted us - that was all just for show. I'm glad to finally get that off my chest, I'm hanging up now."_

Jo noticed the utterly bewildered look on Blair's face and hid a chuckle. Natalie could be a bit much sometimes. "Was that Natalie?"

"Yes. Um..." Blair blinked; another call had chimed her phone. It was Amanda.

"Hello?"

" _Hi Blair_."

"Hi. How are you?" Blair flicked a quick look at Jo who was busy writing in her pad.

" _Great. Look I have something I need to ask you."_

"Alright," Blair turned her chair around toward the window; her back to Jo.

" _Do you know a woman by the name of Natalie Green?"_

"Yes. Why?"

 _"She said she knew you."_

"Okay," Blair let out an annoyed sigh.

" _She also said you were interested in donating a sum of money to the gallery_."

 _So I was warned_. "Yes, well, she and I both share an appreciation for the arts and I may have mentioned that I give a few dollars every year," Blair covered for herself.

There was a brief pause then, " _She said you two went to school together?"_

"Yes we did. Is there a problem?" A blond brow hiked in question.

" _No, no. It's just you never told me about her_."

Blair turned back around to see Jo patiently waiting. She gave the brunette a wavering smile. "I really can't talk right now."

Amanda cleared her voice. _"You're in a meeting, I'm sorry. Look... I'll call you later."_

"That would be fine. Goodbye," Blair briefly closed her eyes then picked up her pad, giving Jo a pleasant smile. "Now, where were we?"

"Expanding manufacturing in the south pacific region, more revenue for production," Jo read from her note pad.

Blair nodded. "Yes. Okay. Well, the reason is because we have high demand there, so it makes sense to increase labor and expand the product," she explained.

"What about cost of goods?"

 _Mmm, very good question, Jo_. Blair flashed a quick smile at that. "Well, if you look at the report for last month compared to the six previous months, there is a steady up-tick in sales revenue."

Blair turned and flicked on her monitor. The huge screen brought up the same page she was viewing on her pad. She pointed to the lines on the graph for Jo to follow.

"See there? That represents at least half our business cycle - two quarters of positive revenue. This indicates we have a sustainable market for the products we sell there. Which usually means cost won't be compromised."

Blair turned back around and was a bit startled to see an amused look on Jo's face. She was giving her a most open look. Admiration? _Maybe. Whoa... that would be a first._ It made her feel almost shy. "What?" Blair dropped her gaze a little.

Jo wore a lazy smile. "You know, I never really realized..." She trailed off, not really sure what she was about to say.

Blair peered up at Jo through her eyelashes. "Realized what?"

"You really know your stuff." It was a soft compliment, and even though it was quite true, Blair didn't realize it would send such an absolutely thrilling feeling down to her toes. She took in a quick breath.

"I... oh. Yes." A shy chuckle. "Well..."

They let the moment linger. Not really needing to address the simple fact that they didn't just let _anybody_ become the head of a major corporation. Of course you have to know your stuff. And then some…

But it was nice that someone noticed.

Blair closed her pad and looked at Jo. "So is that all?"

"Yeah. For now." Jo scribbled a few more notes then stood. "I'm just going to do some work from this and then I'll leave for the day."

She gave Blair a lingering smile, then turned and made her way across the room.

"Okay." Blair sat back in her chair watching the brunette as she reached the door.

She looks good in her suit today, she observed. She watched as the muscles in Jo's arm flexed as she gripped the doorknob. Her shirtsleeves were rolled up; which was something Jo did when she was ready to get down to business... Blair decided she liked that look, very much.

Jo closed the door behind her and rounded her desk - taking a seat. She flipped open her laptop and dialed Natalie's number; keeping her head down.

" _Green_."

"Where are you?"

" _I can't talk right now. I'm going on a tour of the VillaManzi art gallery_ ," Natalie smiled into the phone; putting on an appearance of innocence.

The reporter stood in the back of a small group that Amanda had gathered together to give a presentation in one of the wings of the gallery. The featured artist was some guy by the name of Brown.

"You're with Palmero?" Jo asked.

" _Yes."_

"Nat, be careful."

" _Don't worry. All is well_."

Jo smirked, Natalie's cover voice needed work. "Alright. Talk to you later."

* * *

Amanda had led the small group of seven people to gather around a tall sculpture. It was inside a protective glass casing, and she was giving them a full description of the piece, including the background of the sculptor himself.

"And as you can see, Brown wanted the spectator to really _feel_ the element. Literally hands on," the curator gestured toward the figure.

"Can we touch it?" a woman asked.

Amanda smiled at her. "You sure can."

She reached into her pocket to retrieve a key to the glass door lock. As she did, a plastic card fell to the floor and slid to the back of the room, where Natalie stood. No one seemed to notice as they had all gathered closer to the sculpture.

Natalie picked up the card, turning it over. It seemed to be a door key.

 _What is this?_ She turned it over. _The Verona Place. Huh. That's Blair's building_. Natalie glanced at the curator who was busy showing the piece.

 _Maybe she lives there, too. Could be that's how she knows Blair... No, she said they met at a gallery party. Blair's been at Verona for five years. She would've at least bumped into Amanda... unless Amanda just moved there. I better get confirmation from Eric._

"Natalie?"

"Yes?" Natalie looked up to see Amanda and all seven spectators looking at her.

"Would you like to feel Brown's latest piece?" Amanda coerced. She waved Natalie over toward the sculpture.

"Okay, sure," Natalie discreetly tucked the card into her pants pocket as she walked over. She looked at the figure. It was of a giant fish intertwined with an anchor. The gills apparently were the most life-like feature of the piece. She ran a fingertip over the surface.

"Oooh, nice texture!"

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" David Warner stood in the office of the head agent.

Eric nodded, "Have a seat, Mr. Warner."

David did as he was told. His forehead crinkled with anticipation as he kept a skeptical eye on Agent Eric Nelson.

Eric placed his elbows on the desktop, his hands clasped together. "We have a situation."

"What kind of situation?" David asked, then held up a hand. "Wait. Before you answer that, just be direct with me, don't beat around the bush."

He was tired, and exceptionally weary of the whole investigation. So far any leads they had on the warehouses had run into a wall; and that meant they had no new information to go on. As far as he knew.

"Alright. As of three PM yesterday afternoon, your offshore account was gravely compromised."

David slid slightly to the edge of his chair. "I've asked you to be blunt with me," he reiterated.

Eric nodded. "The money's gone," he stated flatly.

David Warner sat in silence for a bit. He could feel his temper rising; yet he strangely wasn't surprised at the news. He took in a breath. "What happened?"

Eric leaned back. He expected an angrier reaction from the CEO. "We've ran analytics several times. We have no trace as of now."

David frowned at the news. _Dammit Robert! What the hell did you do?_ "That's the best you can come up with?! My God man! I trusted you to keep it guarded!"

Eric couldn't argue with the man. "Believe me, we are just as much surprised by this as you are, Mr. Warner. I assure you my agents are at the Warner Building right now checking that side of things."

Eric kept his voice steady and calm. Warner was becoming more and more rattled, and who wouldn't be? A lot of money just up and disappeared.

"And?!" David barked.

"Nothing. No leads so far," Eric sounded slightly defeated, which rubbed his client the wrong way.

"How the hell can this happen?!" David was feeling beyond inconsolable now.

Eric shook his head. "I don't know." It was the truth. No matter how many times he'd ran the numbers, looked at the timeline and even drilled the bank: nothing.

David was on his feet now. He approached Eric's desk, looking down at the seated man. "Who did this?! YOU HAVE TO FIND OUT!" He pointed a finger at him.

"Sir, I'm going to ask you to calm down now," Eric peered up at David, he held a serious look on his face.

David dismissed it. "You calm down! I've just been robbed!"

He turned and took out a handkerchief, wiping his mouth, then putting it back in his suit pocket.

The room was still for a moment, save for the enormous stress that was piling up on the frustrated CEO.

Eric stood from his desk then walked over to David. He put his hands in his pockets and let out a breath. "I'm sorry." It wasn't much but it was true.

"You're sorry?!" David threw a cutting glance at him. "Is that all you can say? I trusted you to get to the bottom of this and all you've done is managed to waste my time and allow my company to be fleeced!"

He fully faced the agent now. He was sweating and his face was turning bright red.

Eric watched as the man loosened his tie. "Are you alright, Mr. Warner?"

"Of course I'm not alright!" David eyed the man in front of him. "You probably know my nephew is the only other person with access to that account, right?"

"We do. We did a thorough background check on him," Eric informed.

"And?"

"He's clean. There is no evidence he was the one to remove the money."

David grunted. "I'll just bet he wasn't," he muttered.

Eric arched a brow. "Come again, Mr. Warner?"

Eric watched him; reading his body language. David Warner was in shock and wound very tight. Regardless, they couldn't risk him doing anything erratic.

David ignored the agent's inquiry. "Never mind that. I'll just have to take things in to my own hands!" He started to move swiftly towards the door.

"Sir, that is not a wise thing to do. We have an investigation going on!" Eric's voice rose. The last thing they needed was a potential breach in the investigation because of a rouge informant. "Sir!"

David yanked the office door open. "Screw your investigation! This is MY company!" He slammed it shut after him.

 _Fuck it!_

Eric ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He went back over to his desk and brought up the offshore account on his screen. Leaning back he rolled through the transactions. The money had been in there, then it simply disappeared. There was no trace of a transaction - just there one day, gone the next. It was perplexing.

He sighed then tapped a device on his desk. "Jo?"

" _Yeah, hold on."_ There was the clicking of computer keys for a moment. " _What's up?"_

"I'm going to need you to tail Warner." Eric said. And he didn't feel like rehashing what had just transpired between him and David Warner. They needed to move forward.

Jo slowed her typing. " _What do you mean, tail Warner?"_

"I mean keep tabs on him. I just told him about the account. He's livid; mentioned taking things into his own hands."

Oh boy. Great. " _Where is he now?"_

Eric brought up another screen and viewed it. "Just left the parking lot. Hold on. Turning on Main... looks like he may be heading back to the Warner Building. He knows we have a trace on him."

" _Okay, I'll try and reason with him when he gets here_."

"Do that, report back. And if you see his nephew, engage him if you can. I don't know much about this guy's character, but David Warner doesn't seem to have much faith in his own nephew."

Robert.

Jo had sensed he had an interest in her, much to Blair's detriment. _Interesting_. She could use that to her advantage. She was sure he was still in the building somewhere. Perhaps she could arrange to bump into him.

" _Will do."_

* * *

"So I have this dilemma."

Natalie was twisting back and forth in her swivel chair. She was on a lunch break and had decided to Skype Tootie, who was also on a lunch break. She looked around her cubicle area, then stood up, looking out over the ocean of cubicles in the office space where she worked.

It was fairly empty, save a few reporters who had also decided to eat in for lunch.

Sitting back down, she pulled a corn chip out of a bag on her desk and crunched it.

"Nat, make it quick, I only have twenty minutes before I have to be back on stage," Tootie took a bite of her deli sandwich.

"Okay, Okay. Listen."

"I'm listening!" Tootie said around the sandwich as she chewed.

"What would you do if say, you found something that needed to be returned."

Tootie stopped chewing then took a swig of pop before swallowing. "Needed to be returned. I need more to go on Nat, like... what exactly needs to be returned?"

 _Should I just tell her? No, this is classified information. Make it seem like your working on a story._ "I'm doing a story on this woman who found a stolen key."

Tootie frowned. "Stolen key?"

"Yeah, you know, one of those plastic door keys you slide into the door lock thingy."

Tootie nodded in understanding. "Ohhh, yeah. What about it?"

"Tootie," Natalie smirked.

"What?" She took a large bite into her sandwich.

"Pay attention! Do I give it back or try and find out what door it opens?"

"howp woo ou noff wha doorf iff ofens?"

"What?"

Tootie finished chewing then slurped the last of her pop before letting out an, 'ahhhh' "I said, how would you know what door it opens?"

Natalie accepted that. "That's just it, I don't."

"Well... I think you should turn over all your rocks and find out," Tootie picked up a potato chip, smelled it, then crunched it.

Natalie chuckled. Her best friend... she suffered from theatrical poisoning. "You mean leave no stone unturned?"

Tootie realized her faux pas; she waved around a couple of chips for effect before she ate them. "Yeah."

Natalie sat back in her chair - the steel and plastic screeching as she did. "You ever have a hunch about something, Tootie? You can't quite shake it, can't let it go until you..."

"Leave no stone unturned?" Tootie cracked a knowing grin.

"Yeah..."

"Nat?"

"What?"

"Go do your job."

* * *

David Warner sat at his desk, his head in his hands. He was worn out and, quite frankly, a little scared. He hated losing control, and even more losing a load of money. _What the hell do I tell the board? And Blair..._

It simply wasn't acceptable.

That's what he had told Jo after running into her when he stepped off the elevator. He expected that; no doubt Eric had sent her.

She had done the one thing that helped ease, if not his anger, his worry over the lost money...

She listened.

They'd sat in his office for forty minutes, while Jo listened to him ramble, yell, and bloviate about his company, his money and his family.

Jo had suggested they all get together for dinner and that suggestion was enough to strike David Warner silent for a few seconds. He sat and thought about that. They hadn't had dinner as a family, together in a while - Russell's funeral didn't really count as Joyce wasn't able to attend dinner, but...

Tonight perhaps was the right time to just, be a family. Robert was in town, so why not?

He had called Blair into his office, and she entered the office with a skeptical look on her face. She sat before him, a bit skeptical at his obvious 'put on' easygoing attitude.

He knew about her dinner with Jo last night, and was quite pleased to know they were mending fences. He was used to their regular ongoing cycle - fight, ignore, make up. Rinse and repeat.

"How'd it go last night?" David asked, genuinely interested.

Blair adjusted in her seat. "Dinner with Jo? Fine." _You didn't call me in here to ask me that, did you?_

"I figured it had to be pretty serious. Truce perhaps?" David smiled carefully.

"No truce necessary, Daddy. We just cleared up a few misunderstandings."

"Well, it was serious enough for you to put a few things on hold," David said.

Blair looked at her father. "Did someone say something?"

"Yes. Mara Miller said you cancelled on her; and you rescheduled the specialties product line presentation. I thought you wanted to get her views on shaping the department leads," David said.

"I did, I do, I mean... I still do. Jo and I just needed to clear the air on a few things," Blair said in her own defense.

David nodded, "I can understand, seeing that you're working together now. I assume you two are going to make it through to the end of the project?"

 _With or without maiming each other_ , Blair let out an amused breath. "We're fine." She pretended to dust something off her knee.

"Good. In that case I want you to have dinner with the family tonight... at the mansion," David tossed out.

Blair gave him a quizzical glance. "Any particular reason?" That came from out of nowhere.

"Can't I have dinner with my daughter without any suspicion?" David asked smoothly.

Blair squinted at her father, trying to gauge him. "As long as I don't have to answer questions about my private life, very well. What time?" she asked.

David smiled wide. "Seven-ish."

"I'll be there," Blair said. "Anything else? I need to get back." She threw a pointed thumb over her shoulder.

David stood, watching as Blair did the same. "No, no that's all," he smiled at her. "See you this evening."

"Bye, Daddy." Blair padded her way across the room and left, shutting the door quietly.

The smile fell from David Warner's face as he picked up his cell phone and tapped it a few times.

The line picked up. " _Uncle_."

"Dinner at the mansion tonight. Be there at seven," came the harsh order.

" _Can't. I have a date_."

"Cancel it. This is urgent."

" _Sorry, Uncle David, no can do_."

That was unacceptable. "Don't play games with me. You have your ass at the mansion tonight!"

A chuckle. " _Or what? Huh? You'll terminate me? You can't do that."_

"Watch me!" David spat.

" _Oh that's rich. I guess you're forgetting about your promise to my father."_

The line was empty for a moment, a bit of static the only noise.

" _That's better, I thought you'd remember you can't fire me_."

David held the phone tight to his face. "But I can make your life a living hell."

" _Tsk... now why would you want to do that? Huh? I'm sure Blair would just love to know how all those millions of dollars happened to show up in the offshore account_."

It was the card David was wondering when Robert would put into play. Funny though, that he would mention that. "You moved it."

" _You told me not to_."

"I'm not asking you."

" _Well, then no I haven't."_

"Liar!"

There was a shuffling noise, then, " _What exactly are you getting at, Uncle David?"_ Robert's voice held a note of concern.

"Stop being deceitful with me. Where did you hide it?!"

Robert was quiet for a moment. " _Hide... wait. Where's the money?"_

"That's what I'm asking you," David switched the phone to his other ear.

" _Are you saying it's no longer in the account?"_

"Are you trying to convince me you don't know?" David asked, his face fell with uncertainty.

" _Wha... shit! Are you serious?!"_ Robert sounded panicked.

"Robert, what the hell are you saying here?" David was struggling to keep himself calm.

" _What the hell are YOU saying?! Where the hell is the money, Uncle David?!"_

David swallowed nervously. _Unbelievable_. "You think I'm falling for this? You tell me what you did with it!"

 _"I have no idea what you're talking about! Oh my God!"_ Robert shouted.

David wasn't buying it. "Robert! Where the hell is the money?!" A fist pounded his desk.

 _"I don't know!"_ The line was full of heavy rapid breathing; Robert let out a squeaking noise.

David blinked, then rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "You're serious."

" _What the hell do you think?!"_ Robert struggled to catch his breath. " _I didn't take it_." He managed to get out.

"Then who the hell did?" David's voice sounded rough. He felt lifeless and almost defeated now; not getting even close to an answer from his nephew.

Robert gathered himself together, suddenly remembering his plans for the evening. " _Look, um... I'll stop by later for drinks_..." he conceded quietly.

"Alright." David let out a long breath. "Robert?"

" _Yeah?"_

"We need to get to the bottom of this. I don't want to discuss it over the phone."

" _Like I said, after dinner, I'll stop by_."

Fair enough. "Okay."

Robert hung up, and David looked at his phone, tapping it to close his side of the line. He stuffed it back in his pocket; then turned to face the windows behind his desk. He looked out over the expanse of the numerous buildings with a heavy feeling. It was time to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Milo's Italian Restaurant was one of the more upscale and expensive restaurants in the city. It was located in the most distinguished and posh part of Upper East Manhattan.

Robert addressed the Maître d, then was quickly escorted to his table where he was pleasantly surprised. His guest had arrived early.

She looked nice, he noticed. A pleasant cotton dress; her hair was down and she wore a bit more makeup than when he'd first met her.

 _Looks like someone's trying to impress_. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting." He took a seat, his eyes never leaving those of his tablemate.

She smiled at him. "I haven't been here long."

"Good. Have you ordered wine?" he asked.

"No, I was just browsing the menu."

"Allow me," Robert gave her a confident smirk, then snapped his fingers at their waiter before he passed by their table. "Waiter, here!"

The waiter frowned slightly, but made his way over to their table. "Are we ready, sir?" he addressed Robert directly.

"Yes. Let's start with a bottle of Venica Ronco delle Cime," Robert said, while taking the menu from the woman and handing it back to their waiter.

"Very good, sir. I'll be back to take your orders."

Robert nodded, then addressed his 'date.' "I have to admit I was a little surprised when I ran into you in the lobby." He leaned forward placing his forearms on the table.

"They let me take a few breaks every now and then." A smile. "It hasn't been all work, work, work."

"Good to know my cousin isn't a slave driver," he flashed a toothy smile at her.

"No, she's been pretty good at juggling her job and dealing with me." It was an honest reply.

Robert lifted a brow. "Oh? Do the two of you not get along?"

"We've had our moments." Was all that was offered.

 _Interesting_. "So tell me, Jo. How is it that a beautiful woman like you hasn't been linked to any eligible bachelors around town?"

"Ah, you've done a little homework on me." She gave him a polite smile.

Jo gauged the man in front of her. He was obviously interested, and she would use that to her advantage. It _was_ her job, and lord knows it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to use her feminine wiles to her advantage. Robert Warner was hungry for power, and Jo assessed that his thirst for leveling the playing field against Blair was also his main goal.

"I've just been so busy lately... since I've moved back to New York," she finished.

Robert looked at her closely. "Too busy, you say."

Jo nodded. "I've only been back in town for a little over a week, and now this project with Warner Textiles has me very busy; so really no time for all of that." She gave him a genuine smile.

Robert's eyes gleamed with interest. The woman was mysterious, and he felt the challenge to crack her, seemingly, very thin facade, would be a worthwhile challenge.

"You make sure my cousin doesn't strap you down with so much work you can't have a little fun," he stated.

"I'm sure she wouldn't do that," Jo answered back.

Robert leaned back in his chair a little. "Blair is a fair minded woman when it comes to her workers. I'm assuming, of course."

 _Just the opening I needed_. "She is. I mean, look at Amanda Palmero. She's practically able to come and go as she pleases," Jo gave him a sharp look; her face not giving away any intentions.

Robert chuckled. "Amanda?"

 _Familiar first name recognition, Jo, pat yourself on the back_. "Yes. I met her the other day. Do you know her?" a brown brow dramatically rose in question.

Robert's face faltered somewhat. He shifted his eyes to glance around the restaurant, thinking of how to put it.

He found patient green eyes waiting for him and he gave her a rueful smile. "I have for a while."

"Oh? She's been with the company for a while then?" Jo questioned.

Robert shook his head. "She's not affiliated with Warner."

Jo waited for a bit then, "She's isn't?"

Robert blew out a breath. "I was at Columbia for a couple of years then transferred to NYU to finish out my degree. Amanda was working on a Fine Arts degree there." He hesitated then, "We started talking for a while."

"You two hit it off?"

Robert cleared his voice. "At first."

The waiter arrived with their wine and Jo patiently waited as Robert addressed the vintage properly before their full servings were poured.

"Thank you. Give us another moment to order," he instructed the waiter, who nodded once, then left.

Jo took a sip. _Wow, very good_. "You were saying about Amanda?"

Robert swallowed, then slowly put his glass down. "She and I dated for a while, on and off."

It was the way in which he stated it that made Jo's next question valid. "What happened?"

"Let's just say, she discovered herself and leave it at that." Robert let out a nervous laugh before taking a long drink of wine.

Jo nodded, not sure why his explanation was leaving her stumped all of a sudden. "I don't understand."

Robert flashed a brief strained smile then gave Jo a direct look. "She seems to prefer those of a female variety for companions. I should've known, she was always asking me questions about Blair."

 _Wow_. That was indeed unexpected to say the least. She knew her puzzled face was speaking for her, and she truly felt thrown off her game all of a sudden.

And Blair... why would she lie about knowing Amanda longer than she'd said?

Jo moved in her seat, adjusting in it as she mulled over Robert's revelation. Obviously, Blair had an apparent penchant for attracting not only men, but women. _Wow, Amanda?_ It was almost comical, but also intriguing, especially considering Robert's declaration of Amanda's _alleged_ attraction toward Blair. She allowed herself a tiny smile. _Understandable_.

"Let me clarify," Robert attempted to set the record straight, so to speak. "A few months ago I finally decided to bring her home with me to meet the family. You can imagine the spectacle."

Jo had to agree. "I've been to the mansion all of one time since I've known Blair and it was quite entertaining," she said.

The Warner's never ceased to disappoint when it came to meeting new people. It was a family thing. They air their dirty laundry in front of you then turn on you - grill you, then dismiss you. It was the Warner way.

Robert laughed at that. "Well, good ole' Amanda couldn't quite keep her eyes off of Blair. And Blair was completely consumed with her latest boy toy. Paul, I think his name is."

Jo knew the name. Paul Smith had been in the military, so it was easy to access his profile. It was interesting he had dated a couple of women when in the service, then decided to become an interior designer once he got out. _Typical. Blair probably loves that about him._

"Anyway, she kept asking me questions about her. Finally I decided to introduce her to Blair and the rest is history."

Jo knew the answer to this. It had been proclaimed by Blair, ad nauseam, since she'd known her. Blair had always made it clear she was man crazy, and had no interested in anything but friends only when it came to women who were seemingly romantically interested in her. _Got it_. Friend's only was the way it had to be. But Blair always loved the attention, regardless.

"So they became friends," she said.

Robert measured Jo's statement. He tilted his head. "Sure." He drank the last of his wine.

Jo hesitated for a second before asking. "Does Blair know Amanda's gay?"

"You'll have to ask Blair. That was months ago, I'm sure the subject has come up," Robert replied crisply.

Jo pursed her lips, picking up her wine glass; giving it a swirl. A lot had happened, she reflected. Blair got married then divorced, then became the president of her father's company. Jo paused the wine glass at her lips. The woman she thought she knew, the one she called her best friend, had somehow, suddenly, become more baffling than ever.

She sighed, feeling a quiet sense of frustration envelop her. She took another sip of wine, plastering on a grin.

Robert waited until Jo set her glass down. "Enough about them. I want to know about you." He reached across the table and gently touched her hand.

* * *

Dinner had gone well. The main conversation consisted mostly of the goings on at Warner. Joyce always loved a good update. She especially loved hearing about Blair's first week as president.

They had retired to the Grande room for after dinner drinks. David had poured himself a scotch and quickly engrossed himself in a phone call; and Meg rolled Joyce out onto the patio for a bit of fresh air.

"I'll be back in a moment, Nana."

Joyce patted Meg on the hand. She loved the scenery of being so close to the beach. The warm summer sun was still able to caress her in the evenings, even though it wouldn't be long before the days would start to grow shorter and cooler. Grey eyes crinkled as she smiled, taking in the fresh air as she stared out over the expanse of the back courtyard.

Meg walked over to the bar where Blair handed her a readymade glass of wine. "Here, thought you could use this."

She took it with a thankful sigh. "Thanks, you read my mind." She took a sip then regarded her stepsister. "I've been meaning to ask you."

"What?" Blair turned her attention to Meg.

"I don't usually see you out here in the middle of the week for dinner. Is everything really going okay at work?"

Blair stirred her club soda with a thin little straw. "Everything's fine. Besides, Daddy asked me to come."

"Uh oh," Meg gave her an alarmed look.

Blair eyed her. "What?"

"This is probably a set up," Meg mock whispered, cracking a smile.

Blair waved it off, glancing at her father. "I kind of figured, but then again, I miss Zelda's cooking so it wasn't a hard decision to come," she smiled. "And I wanted to see Nana; thank her again for my gift."

Blair lifted her arm, happily displaying the family heirloom.

Meg grabbed her wrist, turning it and noticing the fine detail of the 24 karat gold piece. "Those are nice stones," she deduced.

"I wear it every day like she told me too," Blair said with pride.

Truth be told, she sort of saw the heirloom as a comfort piece, maybe even a statement of girl power now that she was at the helm.

There was a sudden slamming of one of the inner doors that led to the Grande room. It was startling. Footsteps then started and became louder as they reached the room where they were all gathered.

"Well, greetings everyone! Sorry I missed dinner. I couldn't cancel on my date at such short notice."

It was said so conceitedly that Meg and Blair couldn't help but take notice. They watched as Robert made his way over to them. He went straight for the scotch, grabbing a tumbler from the bar.

Blair spared a conspiring look at Meg, then rose a brow in amusement. "How'd it go?"

"Beautifully." Robert dropped four ice cubes in his glass, not addressing her.

"Don't tell me, another one of your regular's?" Blair teased, getting the reaction she wanted.

Robert glared at his cousin. "Oh, now, tsk, tsk, Blair. Why be so hard on the poor girl?"

"Just making an observation," Meg chimed in. "Or rather, judging from the past."

She was referring to Robert's track record of picking up women who, without fail, fawned over him, and his over-inflated sense of worth.

Robert shook his head at the both of them. "Well, I'll tell you what. I'll allow you to be the judge of all that," he said in a self-satisfied manner.

 _Allow me?_ "Meaning?" Blair asked, truly interested in his answer.

"I'm sure she'll tell you all about it," he flashed a shit eating grin at her, pouring his tumbler full of liquor; then re-corked the bottle, "Tomorrow morning."

Blair scoffed at him. "How's that again?" _Bringing your bimbo's to the office now Robert?_ She took a sip of her drink.

"Jo Polniaczek."

And it was a lovely sound... the sound of coughing, or was that choking on crow? - hard to tell the difference. Robert chuckled openly, fully facing his struggling cousin as she tried to catch her breath.

"Lovely woman. We had a wonderful evening." He handed Blair a napkin, which she snatched out of his hand.

"How is Jo?" Meg asked, careful of the tension building between the two sparring mates.

Robert shrugged. "She's-"

"Not available," came the weak reply. Blair wiped her mouth, then threw the napkin on the bar.

"I was going to say, doing quite well at Warner," Robert corrected her gleefully. "But Blair's response is so much more interesting." He displayed a menacing smile.

"It's true. She's working on a project with me and very busy throughout the day," Blair struggled to maintain her argument.

Robert came within a few inches of Blair. "Well, you know what's also true? I finally find a woman to go out with me, for me I might add, and you," he pointed at her, "somehow feel threatened."

Blair leaned away from her clueless cousin and scoffed. "I'm hardly threatened by that."

"Really?" he lifted a brow. "Then why such a hostile attitude about it?" Robert kept his voice harsh. He shifted a glance to David, who was still highly engrossed in conversation across the room. "Afraid she'll like me instead of you?"

Blair rolled her eyes; feeling incensed. "She can make up her own mind, I'm sure," she scowled at him.

He merely smiled calmly at her, enjoying her undoing. " _Thaaat's_ it, isn't it? Finally, I get a little revenge on you. And what makes it even sweeter is it's with someone you'd rather have for yourself, isn't that right Blair?"

He harshly whispered that last part, loving the aspect of being one of the keepers of Blair's most guarded secrets. He also loved holding it over her head. It had been a disappointing day, to say the least, and Blair just added more fuel to his temper.

"You really have no idea what you're talking about," she said.

"I know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Robert's voice took on a low register. He loudly set his glass down on the bar top. "You've taken everything from me!"

Blair blinked at him. She felt the shift in their confrontation, and decided to chide him. "You've hardly earned anything," she stated.

That did it. Robert's face drew up in anger. "I should be president, not you!"

"And there it is," Blair waved her arm toward her indigent cousin. "It's always going to come back to _that_ isn't it, Robert?" She laughed at his angry expression. "Poor little Robert: robbed of a position he can't have."

"Screw you! You took Amanda from me!" He was in her face now and Blair had to back up a bit.

"She never wanted you!" she stated the obvious, and Robert had no defense.

"It's her loss! But, oh how I'm going to relish seeing you squirm now that I have your good friend, Jo, on my arm," he saw the wavering smile Blair tried to maintain for his benefit. "Hurt's doesn't it?"

Blair just stared at him. She debated whether or not to tell her overzealous cousin about Jo's true nature, but ultimately decided not to play her hand too soon. _No_. There will come a day and a time for that. She was certain.

"Robert. This isn't the time for this," Meg interceded. She had been watching their whole argument like it was a ping-pong match.

"Stay out of this Meg! Blair's a grown woman, she can speak for herself!" Robert snapped at her.

"We are not going to do this here," Blair demanded in a hushed voice.

"You're not going to control me!" Robert sensed Blair's desperation, and relished her potential exposure. "I'll say whatever I want to say!"

He saw her flinch at his words. _Good_. He glanced at his uncle across the room. "And maybe it's time I let the rest of the family know just what you've been up to."

"Keep your mouth shut, Robert!" brown eyes flashed with fear and anger.

Robert laughed. "Starting with Amanda." _Oh, gotcha now_.

* * *

Jo was in the bathroom at Florenza's Cafe. Geno had graciously let her park her bike in the back alley earlier.

Florenza's had only one stall, and she struggled to take off her dress and shoe's in the tiny space.

Earlier, she had taken a cab to the upscale restaurant in the Upper East Side to meet up with Robert. No sense in taking the bike when in a dress and high heels.

" _Did you put a trace on him_?"

"Yep." Jo hopped into her jeans, pulling them up then buckling her belt. "It looks like he went straight to the Warner mansion."

" _Get up there and inform David Warner. I knew this guy was hiding something. Seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree_ ," Eric ordered.

Thanks to Jo, after days and hours of pouring through numerous layers of analytical information, Eric had finally uncovered the one thing they had been looking for - one, single transaction. That transaction was linked to an account connected with access. The person who had sole access was none other than Robert Warner.

And now they were at a standstill until they could inform the CEO. Unfortunately, David Warner was completely ignoring their attempts at contact at the moment.

Jo had done her job, which was extracting information from her dinner companion. He was easy, his ego fragile and quite large, she had observed. Getting him to open up and brag about the Tokyo division was one thing - easy enough. But when it came to talking about his personal worth, he spilled the most valuable information yet.

He held money all around the world, he had said. It only took a little prompting and flirting for Jo to find out Robert had a hand in the offshore account. The implications were pretty clear at this point, and Eric's job became that more easier.

She switched her cell phone to tuck under her chin as she tied and clamped her biker boots, while sitting on top of the toilet seat. "Couldn't get in contact with Warner?"

" _He's not picking up his phone. I'm pretty sure he has a private team working on this but I warned him not to try and take this on without us_."

Jo grunted. "He's as stubborn as his daughter." She stood grabbing her bag and zipping it up. "Okay, I'm out of here. I'll let you know when I get there."

" _Be careful, We don't know what Robert Warner is capable of."_

"I'm on it." Jo ended the call then yanked the bathroom door open.

"Took you long enough."

"Yeah well, Geno needs a bigger ladies room." Jo said.

"Tell that to city maintenance. That bathroom is an historical treasure Jo. Liza Minnelli once held up an entire theatrical production because Bernadette Peters had to use the restroom and couldn't get in; because she, Liza, had to get her make-up just right."

Jo smirked. "I know. I read all about it on the plaque on the wall in there." Jo smiled. "Thanks Tootie."

Tootie nodded. She had been patiently guarding the door while Jo dressed in the one woman stall. "You're welcome. I have to get back to work, I'm missing tips."

Jo nodded. "I'll see you later."

She made her way through the kitchen, giving Geno a nod in thanks as she made her way to the back alley.

Jo tapped the back of her ear, making sure her communication was open to Eric. "Test."

" _Here_."

She secured her helmet, revved the engine then checked the street behind her before backing up. Setting out at a steady pace she made her way out of the city and into the countryside. The route she took was a quick road to the Warner mansion. She was about fifteen minutes out when she noticed a car start to edge up on her, getting closer.

 _What's this?_ "Looks like I might have a tail on me."

" _Be careful, Jo_."

The black car eased off only to catch back up with her, almost bumping her bike. "Crap, they keep rolling up on me!"

Jo looked in her side view mirror trying to see who was driving the car. The driver was wearing sunglasses and a hat of some sort. He caught up with her again, this time making contact with her tail pipe.

The bump immediately threw her out of control, her tires skidding. Jo gripped the handlebars tightly, trying to keep the bike from sliding sideways.

"Dammit, back off!" she yelled.

" _Agent, are you okay?"_

The car bumped her again, this time sending her sliding off the road and onto the shoulder. The weight of the bike forced her to lean to one side as she slipped into the ditch. Jo was able to hop off just in time as she was thrown to the ground. "Damn! Ugh..."

" _Agent?! Jo! Are you there_?"

Jo laid there, the sound of her bike wheels turning let her know she was still alive.

"Yeah, I'm here. They ran me off the road. I'm in a ditch."

" _I'm sending someone out_."

Jo sat up, dusting her jacket and tee shirt off. "No, I'm alright. They just dinged me." She saw that one of her cargo cases had a dent in it. _Damn_.

She at least had the gumption, thank goodness, to look up at the right moment before going off her bike, and get the plate number of the car before it sped away.

"I got a plate number."

" _Go ahead_."

She gave Eric the number, then slowly made her way over to her bike, standing it up after turning off the motor. She felt heavy and her booted feet weighted her down all of a sudden.

Jo hopped back on her bike and turned it on, revving the motor.

" _You sure you're okay?"_

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jo righted the bike and started back on the road. She coughed, then felt a sharp sting in her side. She looked down noticing the growing red spot on her tee shirt.

She placed her hand over it. "I'm... uh. Okay. I'm not fine." _That's a lot of blood_.

 _Jo?_

"Got blood, on my... ugh," a sudden dizzy feeling caused her to almost lose her vision. She blinked - her speed lowering considerably.

" _Can you get to an urgent care_?" Eric typed for a second. " _There's one two miles from you."_

Jo nodded, her head heavy under the helmet; her eyesight loopy and fuzzy. "Okay, yeah... yeah... before I pass out." She gripped the handlebars.

" _Steady, Jo, just keep talking to me, we'll get you there_."

The bike wobbled and swerved as it went along the road. "Kay..." she swallowed. "I'm gonna' make this..."

* * *

"Sir, do you want me to go back and check?" the driver asked.

"No! No, you've done enough. I just wanted to scare the girl, not kill her!"

Steele gray eyes glinted. "Just drive."

"As you wish, sir."

* * *

The air in the room was crisp, almost electrically charged as the occupants in the Grande room attempted to contain an un-winnable non-argument.

"Can we please not do this right now?" Meg had stepped in between Blair and Robert, who were staring each other down.

Robert snapped his eyes to meet Meg's. "Can you please mind your own damn business for once, Meg?"

"What do you want, Robert? Besides my job that is?" Blair crossed her arms over her chest, knowing she'd lit yet another fire in her cousin.

His eyes narrowed. _Fuck you_. "I'll make it simple for you. Retribution." He looked towards his uncle who was still on the phone. "Oh, Uncle David?"

David hit the mute button on his phone and glared at his nephew. "One moment, I'll be with you in a minute!" he said angrily.

"Oh, good," he faced Blair with a smirk, "I have some interesting news for you."

Blair scowled at him, alarmed. "You promised."

A wide smile. "I lied."

"You never fail to let me down, Robert," Blair eyed him, letting her voice lower to a raspy tenor. She noticed her father ending his conversation, then walking over to them - drink in hand.

The CEO looked at the both of them shaking his head. "You two still going at it?" David sipped his drink.

Robert spoke up first. "Glad you could join us, Uncle David, I have some rather, fascinating news about your favorite daughter."

David grunted at that. He ignored Robert's enthusiastic attitude all together. He had information of his own to attend to. "Let's cut the crap, Robert. I just got off the phone with my informant."

Blair's faced dropped, startled. "Informant? For what, Daddy?"

David exhaled loudly and faced his daughter. Her face was a mixture of confusion and disappointment. "I think it's time you knew, Blair," he looked at Robert. "Robert here hasn't been exactly upfront with us concerning his division in Tokyo."

"Hold on a min...What?!" The shocked expression Robert wore was almost comical.

"What are you talking about?" Blair looked between the two of them.

David held up a hand. "Meg, could you please excuse us? This is a private business matter."

Meg nodded. "Sure. I'll go check on Nana."

David watched as she left to go out onto the patio. "Now. Robert would you mind explaining just why the warehouses were burned down?" He lowered his voice. "The real reason."

Robert looked nervous, if not confused by the sudden interrogation. "Uncle David, I can assure you I know as much as you and Blair do about the warehouses," he tried to maintain a calm stance.

David wasn't buying it. "You're a liar!" He came within inches of his nephew's face.

"I just found out you're the connection to the transactions that took place right before Russell died. There were approximately thirteen transactions, all in one day. That's a little much, and a lot of money wouldn't you say?" David gave him a sharp stare, waiting for an answer.

He was upset, Blair deduced. She watched as her father ganged up on Robert, pushing him back towards the bar. His back hit the edge of the counter.

Blair almost couldn't believe her ears. She had investigators reporting to her on a daily basis over there. They had yet to name a source or a reason for the warehouses being purposefully burned to the ground.

"Wait a minute, Daddy, what are you talking about?" she grabbed him by the shoulder, coercing him to turn around. "What money? Do you have a private investigation going on?"

David huffed, then met her eyes. "Blair..."

"You were supposed to tell me!" brown eyes bored into her father's. He dropped his gaze then met hers again. He looked anguished.

"I trusted you," Blair tore her eyes from his as she walked away from both of them in disgust. She picked up her club soda from a table and gulped it down.

"You can't prove anything!" Robert yelled.

David turned and addressed him. "I have all the proof I need. They tracked the transactions to your account, Robert. You received the money. But from whom, is the question."

"You mind filling us in?" Blair felt so done with the whole situation. She rolled her eyes at the both of them. Money was always tied up in the situation. It was their favorite subject.

Robert glared at his uncle. "How do I know you're not setting me up?"

That did it, and David's eyes flashed angrily as he rushed toward Robert knocking him back into the bar while grabbing a fist full of his shirt. "How dare you accuse me of sabotaging my own company!"

"Daddy!" Blair yelled from across the room.

David held his position for a second, then relaxed his grip.

"Okay! Okay..." Robert carefully extracted himself from David's hold, then pulled his shirt, smoothing it out. "I received the money, but I swear I didn't set the whole thing up."

"So who did?" David barked.

Blair made her way over to them, curious. "And for what, Robert? What are you hiding?"

"I don't know!" Robert flailed his arms.

Blair tiled her head at him. Something was off. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

Robert licked his lips. They were dry. "My father asked me to hide the money for him. So I did."

"Hide for what reason, Robert?!" David started to rush at him again, causing the vice president of global operations to flinch in anticipated harm.

 **"Enough!"**

The sound reverberated off the walls of the room. There was a still moment, and three sets of eyes watched as Meg rolled the family matriarch to the center of the room.

Her lips were quirked, and she looked at them with a semi-annoyed expression. "I've listened to you all go on long enough."

Just then the Grande room doors opened, reveling a tall, gray haired man. He rushed over to Joyce, who breathed a relived sigh at his presence.

"Miles. I'm glad you could make it. You're right on time."

David nodded to the board member, acknowledging him. "Miles."

"David," Miles nodded back.

David looked at his mother. "What's going on mother?"

"David shut up and listen... all of you," Joyce said.

"I'll make this quick because I'm tired and it's almost time for my medicine."

She had the floor as all were riveted to her, wondering just what was going on with the company now that a fellow board member had entered the scene.

Joyce cleared her throat. "When David Sr. died, I promised him on his death bed I would clear his name and keep it that way. Lord knows he was a stubborn and deceitful man, but he did have good intentions."

"Nana," Blair held out a hand as a means to soothe.

Joyce shook her head. "No, Blair, dear, you need to know what's been going on and why I did what I did."

"What are you talking about mother?" David asked, worried by her words.

"I'm talking about your father's propensity for getting himself into trouble and dragging the rest of us down with him," Joyce said to her son.

She turned her gaze toward Robert. "And, Robert, I'm sorry but my son was just like your grandfather." Her voice held no note of apology at that. "I don't want you to follow in either of their footsteps, which is why I chose to intervene and end this once and for all."

She signaled for her water glass, and Meg turned to retrieve it. "Miles, how is Agnes?"

"She's taken a turn for the worst, I'm afraid," Miles reached down and patted Joyce's arm.

"Oh dear..." Joyce held a sorrowful look. Shaking her head, she took the water glass from Meg.

"Mother," David was at a loss for what to say. He knew Agnes Steinbruner had been in the hospital for a few days. The 84-year-old woman was the oldest board member at Warner Textiles.

"David, you're not the main stakeholder in this family. You don't call the shots. You never have," Joyce said pointedly as she took a sip of water.

"What?" David's eyebrow's knitted in confusion.

"Before he died, your father arranged to split my shares into holdings in which Miles, Agnes and I are equal partners," Joyce handed the glass back to Meg, then fluffed the quilted blanket that was folded over her legs. "We are the major stockholders of this company; or realistically, _I_ am."

David looked at Miles, then at his mother. "Why would..."

"You father didn't want Russell to go down the same path he did; and Russell was hell bent on doing that," Joyce reasoned.

Blair took in the information, still a bit lost. "What does this have to do with the warehouses, Nana?" she asked cautiously.

"Those warehouses belong to me. I can do whatever I want to with them," she looked at her granddaughter, an air of confidence flowed through her at the statement.

"The Japanese authorities have no jurisdiction to have a say into the matter whether I tear them down or burn them down. I simply chose the latter." It was said with such finality - no one dared to question her decision, except…

"Why?" Robert asked. He felt he had a stake in this and deserved an explanation.

"Evidence," Joyce offered no further explanation.

David blanched at the reply. "Mother, what have you done?!"

"Your mother has done very well actually, David," Miles interjected.

David turned to him. "Miles, tell me what's going on here."

The tall man straightened, then took in a breath. "Well. We've been keeping the business running since your father died. Agnes and I promised your father Joyce would be looked after. We both agreed to hide Joyce's shares in order to give you power."

"You mean, in order to keep an eye on me," David gave him a stern look.

"Not you. Your brother," Joyce corrected. She coughed, then grabbed her glass from Meg and took sip from it.

"And we were right. He was going down the wrong path," Miles clarified.

Blair understood the reasons for her grandmother's actions, but still, there were several pieces missing to the puzzle. "That still doesn't explain why you had the warehouses destroyed."

Miles lifted a brow at the question. "We actually thought we could keep that just between the three of us but, well, with Agnes taking a turn for the worse, it seemed there was no other way around it."

"I'll tell them, Miles. You've said enough," Joyce patted his hand. She turned to her grandson.

"Robert, your father was involved in trafficking industrial hemp to illegal sources for financial gain."

And there it was. Right out in the open. No holds barred and simply put. Joyce was never one to mince words.

Robert was at a loss as he absorbed what his grandmother had revealed to him. "B-But we've been making several clothing items out of that stuff for decades!" he sputtered out.

"You father wanted to further his own financial gain by selling it illegally. There's a market for it," Joyce explained.

David rubbed his chin. "Russell sold it over there with no accountability."

Miles put up a finger. "Until it reached American shores. And that is where your father made a grave mistake."

 _Point taken_. "So Uncle Russell was selling to an underground market," Blair interjected.

"Yes!" Joyce's eyes lit up at her granddaughters deductive reasoning. "And I wouldn't stand for it! So I ordered the warehouses to be burned down. He knew this and tried to get rid of the evidence, but I gave him nowhere to store it."

Joyce said the last part with a saddened tone. She knew the possibility of Russell's sudden heart attack might have been brought on by the stress of being exposed and possibly caught.

"So that's where all the money came from," David muttered.

"I tried to hide it, Uncle David... for my father," Robert's eyes were pleading. He felt sad and betrayed.

David looked at his nephew. He'd been wrong about him. Perhaps, maybe, the apple was far enough from the tree this time.

"He called me, saying he didn't want anyone to know about it," Robert clarified.

"So you lied when it all of a sudden showed up in the holdings account," David said.

"Yes. But I didn't know it was tainted money. I just figured he had worked out a deal or something," Robert took a long drink of his scotch.

"He didn't want you to know. He was trying to protect you," David watched him.

He couldn't blame Russell for trying to protect Robert. But to involve him at all... put his own flesh and blood in potential harm's way. He shook his head at the thought.

"Your father had no idea I had a team of people watching his every move," Joyce told Robert.

Blair felt like a mere observer in the tangle that was her family's business dealings. She felt a morsel of sympathy for Robert, if only because he was as much in the dark as she was about Russell Warner's business deals. "So where's the money now?" she asked.

"I had it secured."

 _Bold move, Nana_. Blair watched the serene look on her grandmother's face. She knew how important it was to her to protect her family.

"Into an anonymous account I had set up for just so treacherous occasions," Joyce finished. Her sense of humor was well known as being quite biting. And Meg had to smile at her choice of words.

"Where?" Blair asked. She was truly intrigued now.

"Safely put away," Joyce wasn't interested in being forthcoming... not with that much money.

"Nana, if I may ask," Blair saw her grandmother give her a knowing look. "How much money are we talking about here?"

"Blair, it doesn't make a difference, it's tainted," David stated.

"True," Joyce admitted. "It's no longer in circulation within the company," she concluded. She noticed Blair hanging on her every word. Waiting for her to answer her main question.

"One hundred eighty million dollars, dear," Joyce had to chuckle at the big eyes her granddaughter was giving her.

"That's a lot of money!" Blair finally got out.

"I know," Joyce said. "Russell owed several people, so it's not entirely all ours, so to speak."

Miles nodded in agreement. "Unfortunately, they have been very persistent lately in wanting their compensation."

"My God Mother, this puts us all in jeopardy!" David looked at his mother, who was all too aware of their predicament.

"I know. That's why I wanted to tell you. I think it's necessary to provide security for the family. I don't know who Russell owed money to, but I don't want to take any chances."

The room was quiet for a moment. Everyone was in thought about the new jarring information.

Joyce continued. "Miles has been having all of us trailed for the past week."

Blair's head snapped up, her eyes trained on her grandmother. "You've been spying on us?"

Joyce shook her head. "No, dear. Just your whereabouts when you're mobile. Miles instructed the team to stand by and out of sight."

"This makes me feel very uncomfortable," Blair said under her breath.

David hesitated for a second, then decided it was best to be forthcoming. "I have my own team guarding Blair and myself, Mother. No need to double down."

He saw the incredulous look on Blair's face at the admission.

Joyce smirked a bit. "As you wish."

"We'll just use our resources in finding the culprits then," Miles concluded.

"Any leads?" David asked Miles.

"We know it's one particular group that had been in direct contact with Russell. He dealt with them only. According to my resources, they want revenge, but more importantly: they want their money."

"Daddy, you've had me followed?!" Blair blurted. She couldn't contain it any longer and was tired of her father's arrangements.

"Sweetheart, I didn't want anything to happen to you," David swallowed. Lately, that's all he'd been doing with Blair - apologizing for screwing up.

It was hard to argue. After learning about the situation the company was in, she saw the logic in her father's actions. Blair breathed in through her nose, her temper quelling a bit. "I wish you had told me."

"I know. Believe me I wanted to," David tried to explain. "And, evidently, I didn't know everything that was going on anyway," he gave a sheepish look in his mother's direction.

"This is all quite a surprise," Meg let out a nervous laugh.

There was something still bothering Blair, however. "Nana, how long have you had me followed?"

"Tracked dear," Joyce gave her a brief smile, before letting her eyes fall on the family heirloom around Blair's arm.

Blair followed her eyes. "My bracelet," she breathed, closing her eyes.

"Yes. Once you became president, you became a target. Miles had the bracelet altered to track you," Joyce looked to Miles for confirmation.

"My dear, we only meant to keep you safe," he assured her.

That did nothing to reassure her. It just made doing her job all that more difficult. It was one thing to have money moved for non-transparency. That had happened before; especially when companies merged. She'd personally saw to it. But this? Threats against the company by unknown conspirators? Her own father not being entirely forthcoming?

Blair shook her head, making her way over to where Robert was nursing his third glass of scotch. He sat at the bar practically curled around it.

"You could've told me," Blair sighed. "Nana, I feel violated." She toyed with the idea of taking the bracelet off.

"You can remove it dear," Joyce could read her granddaughter. And, quite frankly, was tired of the whole charade. "Your father has you covered. It won't be necessary to wear it anymore."

Blair quirked her lips as she fiddled with the bracelet. Sighing, she let her hand drop from it. _I'll take it off later_. She looked at her Nana, who had a remorseful look.

"Understand, we simply couldn't tell you," Joyce was adamant. "We didn't want to put you at risk with that knowledge."

 _I get it_. "You don't trust me," Blair said disappointedly.

"Don't feel bad, Blair. They don't trust me either." Robert glared at no one in particular, while gulping his scotch.

Joyce used her electric driver to roll over towards her grandchildren. "Robert, Blair please... try to understand," her voice wavered. It was thin and sorrowful.

"Mother, you did what you thought was right," David interjected. "I can't fault you for that," he said.

Blair sighed. "I'm trying. I don't like this feeling. It's going to make my job that much harder now - having to watch my back."

"You don't have to watch your back. That's why we have security," Miles offered.

Blair looked at him, her face unreadable _. Security? The family's been threatened: forget the company_. She shook her head.

"Yeah. My dad did this," Robert's voice was gruff. "They won't win. It'll take time, but we'll get them."

He eyed everyone in the room, then downed the last of his scotch and winced as it cleared his throat. He slammed his glass on the wooden bar surface… then abruptly left the room.

* * *

Natalie had parked on the street in front of the apartment building. She explained to the doorman, whom she'd known for as long as Blair had been living there - that she would be 'just a minute'.

She walked into the lobby of The Verona Place. It was a spectacular open area that had crystal chandeliers, marble Italian sculptures and an authentic Italian coffee bar. The building itself was over one hundred years old, and displayed Italian renaissance detailing throughout.

Natalie never failed to be in awe of the spacious and ritzy looking place. There was a garden out the back way, as well. _Blair's taste for sure_. She made her way over to William at the concierge desk.

"Hello, William, how are you?" Natalie put on her best cordial tone. At least she had hoped it came across that way; if not she was aiming for convincing with a touch of class, just the same.

"Just fine, Ms. Green. And you?" The grey haired man gave Natalie a warm smile.

Natalie returned the smile. "Just great. I thought I'd go up and wait for Blair. I'm supposed to meet her here... upstairs at her apartment," she reiterated.

Ok, so it was a lie. She and Blair had no such arrangement, but William didn't need to know that.

"You're welcome to wait in the lobby. The bar has an wonderful assortment of coffees and teas," William suggested.

"Oh, no, no, no. I couldn't possibly," Natalie waved a hand. "Blair said to just go on up and wait for her up there." She pointed an index finger to the ceiling.

William gave her a single nod. "Alright. If you'll just sign in there." He indicated the guest sign in book on the desktop.

Natalie scribbled her name. "Thank you. And, enjoy your evening!" She turned and headed toward the elevator.

"Same to you," William called after her.

The ride up was pleasant. The newly renovated elevator was partially glass and she could see each floor as she passed by - all 65 of them - if she wished to. She didn't, the lobby itself getting further and further away.

Natalie got an uncharacteristically nervous feeling in her stomach the closer she got to the penthouse floor. If the card didn't work, that was one thing. But what if it did? Eric had verified that Amanda Palmero had never taken up residence at The Verona Place, but he wanted the card verified anyway.

The elevator jerked then stopped as the doors opened. Natalie stepped out onto the plush carpeting and headed down the hall. She found Blair's door and pulled the key card out of her purse.

 _Okay_. "Here we go." She hesitated for a second, the card hovering outside the slot; then she slid it in.

Green lights flashed. "What do you know? It works," Natalie said a little hoarsely.

She tried it again just to be sure and this time turned the doorknob. She didn't open the door, but was now convinced the card was, indeed, a key to Blair's penthouse.

She placed it back in her purse and walked back down the hall to the elevator. Pushing the down button, the doors opened and she got in. Natalie stood still as she tried to make sense of what she knew about Amanda Palmero; which was very little. She knew the woman was evasive when it came to Blair.

"She never really answered me when I asked her about Blair." Did that really matter? Benefit of the doubt pointed to - yes it did. Natalie rolled her tongue in her cheek.

Her instincts were prickling at her, pushing her to comprehend the situation. She was right about the key, right about her decision to go to the gallery, and right about the woman being just as uppity as Blair.

"Okay, they know each other. Hit it off; maybe they had lunch or something and Blair dropped her key and Amanda found it, picked it up, meaning to give it back to her."

 _Yeah_...

That didn't quite sound right, did it? "No." So she was back to the very beginning.

Natalie leaned back on the elevator wall. She thought about the first rules of investigative reporting. "Comprehend the situation... understand what's going on."

 _What the hell is Amanda Palmero doing with Blair's door key?_

* * *

 **As always your reviews have been like food to my muse. I've enjoyed reading them - they've been so funny and very observant. I appreciate you, my fellow BLO fans, very much!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I beg forgiveness for the long wait, as my life had taken on a move from one home to the next this past month... quite frustrating and time consuming. Somehow I managed to lose my first draft of this chapter as well, which is why it took so long to get posted. That's life I guess, but nonetheless, the show must go on. Kudo's to** **my beta, Zebeza, for getting through another long one.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The wheels of the long black limousine squeaked as the tires turned and adjusted to the smooth, slick surface of the parking garage. Dark tinted windows were rolled up as Hamilton positioned the car in front of the executive elevators.

The partition between him and Blair was up and the president of Warner Textiles Corporation reclined in the back seat.

"I don't like this Daddy."

Blair switched the phone to her other ear while deft fingers played nervously with the tightly wound threads of her seatbelt. The revelations from the night before about her uncle's crooked business dealings had her feeling on edge, not to mention her own safety was now in question. She'd barely slept at all and Blair let out a frustrated breath as she thought about the busy day that lay ahead of her.

They had to inform the board. It was necessary now; no more stalling. The members needed to know the warehouses were _not_ going to be rebuilt; which meant not generating clothes… _or_ _revenue_.

 _That's going to affect our stock_. Blair let her hand fall, feeling utter dread. That would be a hard-hitting disappointment to say the least.

She shook her head; shifting focus. Her father had informed her again of the corporate security detail he had provided for the entire family. There was a shadow team assigned to each family member. They were to stay at a distance and on duty as a mobile unit only. He assured her of her privacy; however, he intentionally left out _Jo_ as strategic component of her safekeeping.

It was confirmed, earlier that morning, with a brief update of the case - that the family was in _real_ danger now. Eric added the new information about Joyce Warner's involvement to the file. The conclusion was she was within the legal jurisdiction to do what she wanted with _her_ property in Japan. That included taking possession of the money; since there was still no documented link between an actual tangible criminal and the revenue from the products the factory had manufactured. It was a clever maneuver Russell had been carrying out with the shifting of money through ghost accounts, indeed. As of now, the case was closed for the Japanese authorities… but still open for the secret service.

The remaining threats of danger were the primary focus of the three inside agents assigned to Warner Textiles Corporation.

After her own _personal_ briefing earlier, Jo had gone through the routine of privately securing Blair's cell phone data stream, social media access sites and her personal computer operating system: all to secure and monitor any potential hacker activity.

She headed for work, having made it through security; and ambled her way into the back of the elevator, where she rested her head on the back wall while gripping her briefcase. An occasional wave of pain throbbed in her side as she shifted to let more people into the elevator.

Once she finally made it to the 39th floor, she made her way over to her desk and set up shop. Getting out her note pad and laptop, she set her phone, and tapped the back of her ear.

"Test."

" _Here."_

"Made it in. I'm setting up now." She opened her laptop.

" _Good. How's your side?"_

 _"_ Fine. It was just a bruise," Jo grumbled as she plugged in her device.

" _You mean a gash. Jo you have several stitches, be careful."_

Jo winced as she slowly sat down, adjusting to get comfortable. "It'll heal." She was careful of the new wound dressing around her waist. It was a little tight, and the injury it covered was still quite fresh.

" _Just be careful, we still don't know who did this to you."_

Eric had run the plate information Jo had given him, except she had remembered two of the characters incorrectly and the plate came up to be _out of circulation_.

The distant pinging of the executive elevator sounded. Jo glanced at her watch: _9am_. She decided at least with all the craziness suddenly surrounding them – to set the day off on a bright note would be a step in the right direction.

"Warner's coming in."

" _Good. You know what you have to do_."

She heard the quick, brisk rhythm of the stealth heels on hard carpet getting closer and finally rounding the corner.

"Good morning," Jo showcased a big toothy grin.

"My office now, please," came the soft command. The blur went right past Jo and through the office doors.

Jo frowned. "Yes, ma'am," she mumbled.

Jo grunted as she carefully got up from her chair. She tapped off her earpiece, then took a deep breath and made her way through the doors. Blair was standing in front of the enormous floor to ceiling windows behind her desk. She seemed tense and transfixed her gaze on something outside.

Jo entered the room, approaching her carefully. "Are you okay?" She peered out of the window, noting nothing of any _great_ interest – save the vast buildings and skyscrapers.

It was quite a view, and a lovely morning weather-wise. The rays of the sun were beginning to gather in intensity, the lines hitting the windows casting a vibrant radiance that brightened everything in the room.

Blair sighed, "I'm fine." Her shoulders dropped. "Actually, I have something I need to tell you, Jo." She kept her back to the brunette, contemplating how to go about informing her of just how _bad_ things were about to become.

"You can tell me, Blair. Whatever it is." _And I have a pretty good idea_. Jo leaned back on the edge of Blair's desk, not quite sitting or standing, but bearing the pain in her side as she stilled herself in the process.

Blair slowly turned around; her arms were crossed over her chest tightly, and tension was coming off of her in waves.

Jo saw the furrow of her brow. "You can trust me," she said gently.

"And that's just it, you know?" Blair dropped her arms with exasperation. "You seem like the _only_ person I can trust right now." She looked into green eyes that attempted to convey understanding.

 _Calm. Keep her calm_. "Blair, just calm down and tell me. It's okay," Jo's eyes held Blair's. She noted the trusting glimmer in the brown one's in front of her.

Blair nodded. _Here goes_. "Last night at dinner, I learned about a few things concerning my late uncle's business dealings."

Jo remained silent, opting to let Blair take her time. It was better for the client to work things out for themselves.

"My uncle, Russell, had apparently gotten the business into a bad situation. Some… not so friendly deals," Blair finished nervously.

 _Hmm._ Jo let a few moments go by before she responded. "So, you're saying he'd been doing something unlawful?"

"Unlawful?" Blair let out an amused laugh. "That's one way of putting it." She tried to lend a smile to that, but the effort weighed too much, and she shook her head bitterly.

"To put it bluntly, his _unlawful_ dealings have now put the rest of the family in danger," Blair got the words out quickly. It actually felt good to tell someone. "And since you'll be working with me, I felt it necessary to tell you." Blair watched as Jo absorbed that.

"I understand," Jo said. She knew how hard it was for Blair to admit anything negative about the company. Her family's honor meant everything to her.

"No you don't, Jo. This is very serious. There's an investigation going on. Anyone in my immediate family, the company, my friends – could be in danger," Blair said firmly.

Jo crossed her arms over her chest, careful not to put too much weight on her diaphragm. "So you're saying there are people who want revenge on your late uncle?"

Blair hesitated a little before confirming, "Yes," she said softy. "I don't want any danger to come to anyone associated with the company or… me."

Blair turned then made her way to the mini bar across the room. Jo watched as she poured two glasses of ice water. She walked over and handed Jo hers.

"Thanks." Jo took a sip. "I'll be alright. I'm not really associated with Warner. Not in the sense that anyone would tie me in to your daily operations." She sat the glass down on the desk.

Jo had said that so calmly, and resolutely; and it alerted Blair's senses acutely. "Don't be so naive. You could be a formidable target, Jo. People could be out to do _all_ of us harm!" Blair's eyes rounded in fear at the notion.

Jo muted a trite response at the panicked look on Blair's face; and instead, opted to try another angle. "Any ideas on who would be out for revenge?"

Agent handbook, client protection care procedure #43 – get the client to open up and talk about their fears and or concerns about the situation.

"I can't talk about it."

 _Okay, so fail_. "Blair, I can take care of myself. I'm promising you this." Jo gave the blonde what she hoped was a reassuring look.

"That's a nice gesture, Jo, but this is a very serious situation," Blair shook her head, dismissing the declaration.

"I know that Blair," Jo countered.

"Then you understand as president I have to look out for the well being of the company and my staff."

Blair hoped she was coming across clear and concise. She received a noncommittal mumble, and gave Jo a somber look. "This is not a matter of choice. I'm not taking a chance on anything happening to you."

Jo glanced down at her hands, then back up. She wasn't exactly agreeing with the executive. She'd heard the double meaning of Blair's statement. "What are you suggesting?"

Blair closed her eyes then nodded to herself, her mind made up. "I think we should postpone the project."

She swiftly turned, facing the windows. Her mind was racing and she could feel her skin grow hot with worry. She slowly peered up; seeing Jo in the reflection of the glass as she shifted on the desk to stand.

"Wait a minute, Blair. I told you, you don't have to worry about me. I have ways of protecting myself."

Such had been the way of the lone Bronx barbarian, back in the day. Back then she was the smart girl from the seedier side of New York, and of course the overachiever from downtown, who against all odds, graduated at the top of her class. Deep down she was still in touch with where she'd come from; where she'd been since and where she was _now_. Blair had been with her for some of the journey; seen plenty of the changes - the good and bad.

She turned around and faced the defiant brunette. She almost wanted to smile at Jo's penchant for affiliating any type of danger to how she grew up. She gave her a thin smirk. "Jo this isn't some petty street level crime we're talking about."

"I know that, Blair," Jo mockingly sneered at that. She knew what the blonde meant. "Trust me, please?" She'd floated it out there in an attempt to sway the argument; a bit of a fruitless endeavor when it came to Blair, but a girl had to try.

Blair shook her head, "Jo, these people could be out to hurt you!" she paused. "All of us."

"Blair—"

"I want you safe!" The tone was defensive and Blair realized the harshness of the reality surrounding them was not going to be easy to dismiss as trivial.

Jo deflated a bit at the appeal. "I appreciate that, very much, I do," she took in a breath. "But, Blair, you can't let something like this keep you trapped in fear and from living your life."

Jo had always gotten through to Blair by having a steady, cool head. She relied on that now as she saw the blonde staring at her in thought and with expectation.

"Look, you have a security detail I'm sure, right? Your father has made sure of that?" Jo asked.

A sigh, "Yes. Now that I'm president," Blair answered; though she remained defiantly skeptical. "That still doesn't guarantee anything, Jo. When you leave Warner—"

"I'll be fine. I'm not on anyone's radar," Jo said. She flicked a look out of the window then back to Blair.

"You don't know that," Blair pointed a hard finger. _So typical_. She felt as though her nerves were being tested by the stubbornness.

"Look, Blair, I'm probably pretty safe here, in the building, as we _all_ are." Jo stated.

"Yes, but once you leave here, it could be bad, very bad," Blair threw a dour expression, then took a long drink of water.

The woman could be quite adamant and inflexible, Jo reflected. She observed her, noticing her attire: a dark blue power suit complete with a form fitting, white blouse. The pattern on it matched the one on her jacket that was neatly folded over the arm of the couch across the room.

Blair raised a curious brow at the sudden examination. She slowly set her glass down on the desk beside Jo's. "What are you thinking?"

Jo pursed her lips. She had but one ploy left to try; it was necessary to attempt to diffuse the situation before the client started to panic, rule # 113. She cleared her throat.

"Big deal." Yeah, so it was an old, childish thing to say, but sometimes it worked in a pinch.

"Big deal?" Blair lifted an incredulous brow. _How cute_. "That's _all_ you have to say?" She swept her eyes over Jo with trepidation.

Jo nodded, pretending to think. "Okay then… _so what_?"

Blair glared at her. "You're not taking this seriously, I should've known."

She grabbed their glasses and took them back to the mini bar, setting them on top. She turned facing her obstinate friend. "Jo, these people could come after anyone affiliated with Warner, and yes, that means you. You work with me!"

"I still think you're overreacting."

Blair disregarded that. "I'm not overreacting, who knows what these people are capable of!"

Jo stretched out her arms. "Like what?"

"Kidnap, kill, hold hostage! That's off the top of my head!" Blair made her way back over, her eye's boring into the ones in front of her. She started to pace in front of the windows, putting her hands on her hips.

Jo grunted then rose to her full height. "Blair you can't cut everyone out of your life because of this." She watched as the blonde threw her a glower over her shoulder.

"So you're going to stop talking to Tootie and Natalie too?"

Blair ran a hand through her hair. "No, don't be ridiculous. I never said that."

"Then, trust me when I tell you that we need to finish the project, _on time_ , and go on like business as usual." Jo's eyes fluttered as a small pang throbbed in her side. She sucked in a breath to discreetly ease the pain.

Blair wrinkled her nose at that. They were in a serious situation; that much could not be denied. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why Jo was behaving like this was some street fight where everyone went home at the end of it. Some a little more battered and bruised than others.

 _No_. This had to be handled the right way.

She knew the ultimate reasonable thing to do was utilize her position to its full potential. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

Jo watched her; a brown brow rose. "What are you doing?"

"I'm calling JTI to cancel the contract," Blair faced her defiant friend and tapped in the number.

Jo shook her head. She eyed the phone in Blair's hand. "Blair, don't do this."

Blair gave her a stern look. "We _both_ need to be safe. If that means cancelling the pro _j_ —"

It happened so fast Blair barely had time to react. The phone was swiftly taken from her, then quickly tapped off.

"Jo, give me back my phone," Blair said with a low growl.

Jo inclined her head rebelliously. She knew she had just set herself up to face the wrath of the executive's anger, but her duty was to keep the client safe. _Sorry_ , sometimes doing one's duty was necessary in order to survive. Jo moved the phone off to the side as Blair lounged for it.

"Jo! Give it to me!" She moved them both back against the desk.

The back of Jo's thighs hit the edge, and she could feel her injury go numb from the jarring collision; it made her almost nauseous. A slight sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead as she clamped down on a wave of pain.

"I can't let you do this Blair, please, just trust me!" Jo got out, then moved the phone behind her, clasping it with both hands to keep it out of reach. She lifted a brow in defiance, which only made Blair more determined.

"You don't understand how this works, I know what I'm doing. Give it to me!" Blair huffed then lunged toward Jo, knocking into her – her upper torso meeting Jo's. She could feel Jo's thighs against hers…

She hesitated; halting for an instant … a sharp awareness pierced her; acknowledging their sudden closeness as an unexpected flicker of weakness consumed her for a split second.

"…No…" Jo said softly.

It was as if everything was moving in slow motion as soft fingertips slipped over each other - Blair's nails lightly caressing the tops of Jo's hands, which were firmly behind her back.

Everything was gradually registering in that moment. The bright sun had moved, the streams of light causing the room to glow as bits of floating bright light danced around them.

Blair's hands settled on top of Jo's, and she could feel the shift of Blair's arms against her sides. She smelled strongly of _lilac_ , and Jo's eyelids involuntarily shuttered as she bit her lip slightly, defiantly fighting the urge to swoon.

A few rays had hit the shiny wooden floor of the office, bouncing off perfectly to reflect on both of them. Jo tilted her head in wonder as a tiny smile made its way to the corner of her mouth and eyes... eyes that - without permission, without guidance, roamed to the pink parted lips in front of her, then back up to those in front of her with… w _ow,_ tiny flecks of green and gold that were slowly, openly, caressing her face with abandon… _everywhere_.

"Please…" came the breathless plea; Blair's brow creased passionately.

Jo could feel her own heart beat, fast and hard. It matched Blair's own, her pulse visibly beating wildly on the side of her neck. Blair could feel Jo's breath on her face.

Jo was thankful, in times like these that she'd had the gumption to actually _pre_ program herself to methodically go through the correct motions of logic. Particularly before she lost all sense of the control she felt rapidly slipping away.

She closed her eyes briefly, then swallowed hard as she gently removed Blair's hands from behind her. She gingerly placed the cell phone in Blair's palm. "Here… do what you have to do," she murmured hoarsely.

She knew better than to look at her anymore; then forced herself to turn, extracting herself from their embrace. Jo felt the sudden, cool air surround her; pushing her along as she made her way across the room.

She opened the door. "I'll get my things together and go; you won't have to deal with me anymore." Jo kept her gaze to the floor.

Blair took in a breath as she tried to call after Jo – she shuddered, feeling as though her breath had been stolen from her. She leaned on the desk for a moment, taking in a gulp of air. _What just happened_? She cleared her throat, making her way around the desk.

"Jo wait," she got out weakly.

Jo stopped, then sighed; her hand on the doorknob. She looked up to see Blair moving closer to her, just stopping one or two yards away. Blair rubbed her hands together, nervously.

"Please," she stated almost breathlessly.

Jo looked at Blair for a moment. "What do you want me to do?" she replied softly.

Blair took another step forward, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear, shyly. "Stay."

It was such a simple word, so unpretentious, that Jo blinked, surprised that it had made her heart beat a little faster. She beamed in reaction. _She wants me… to stay_. Good, this is good; she concluded. "Okay."

"We'll work something out," Blair smiled softly meeting the eyes in front of her finally; then quickly dropping them as she turned and headed for her desk.

Jo nodded as she watched Blair's hasty retreat, then she stepped out into the lobby, closing the door behind her. She stood with her back against it for a moment. _Okay, c'mon focus, back to work_. She eyed the security camera, then headed for her desk, carefully taking a seat.

She grimaced as she got comfortable, then flicked on her laptop. Setting her phone, then tapping the back of her ear. "Test."

There was a brief moment of silence then, " _Here_."

Jo brought out her note pad, finding the group of numbers she had scribbled down after their last meeting. She entered them on the computer. "Just talked with Blair. We almost lost the case."

" _Don't tell me, another round between the two of you_?" Jo could hear the large office chair squeak as Eric leaned back into it.

She paused looking carefully at the group of numbers. "Nope. Afraid I might get hurt if I continue to work with her," she continued typing.

" _Ah. I'm sure you smoothed that over?"_

"Absolutely. My charm is tested, tried and effective," Jo teased. "I told her security will see to our safety, nothing to worry about."

 _"Good job. Now you just have to keep her calm and safe_."

"Yeah, well..." Jo paused before recalculating a sequence.

" _What is it?"_

"I'm working on that." Jo wrote the numbers down, calculating them by hand. She worked the problem out, getting the wrong answer.

" _Be careful, Jo. It's important to gain the trust of the client, but not to the point that you lose any sense of your job_. _I know you two are friends, but you are the best person for this_."

And probably the worst. "I'm aware."

Jo erased the numbers, then worked out the problem getting yet another wrong answer only to scratch through it. She worked the equation again coming up short, then balled up the paper, throwing it across the room – the ball hitting the water cooler then bouncing off.

 _Stupid numbers_. Jo pushed her laptop to the side, then placed her elbows on the table rubbing her forehead. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes…

 _All_ she could see were flecks of green and gold, and… _and_ …

 _"Jo?"_

"Yes?" she slowly opened her eyes.

" _Remember, it's important to keep and emotional distance for the sake of the case_." Eric reiterated. He could hear the shuttered breathing on the other end.

 _Yep_. "No problem." It was rule # 117; Jo had memorized most of them.

Damn the rules, damn this case and damn New York for bringing her back here. She disconnected her line to Eric, then sat back hard in her seat – a wave of pain lanced through her side, causing pain filled tears to spring forth as she ground her teeth together. She closed her eyes shifting; trying to get comfortable… _the sudden aroma of lilac floated around her…_ Jo groaned, and blew out a frustrated breath then laughed out loud at her whole predicament; her circumstances...

 _Oh dear God. I have a problem._

* * *

Natalie had visibly flinched at the loud command... the summons. She hated being located so close to the chief editor's office. Her cubicle was within earshot and eyeshot. She knew the rules, getting up from her chair she grabbed her pad and pen - having them in hand when entering the bosses office. You never knew when a story could pop off and the chief wanted to see that you were ready at all times.

"Yes sir?" Natalie stood on the other side of Emmet Harris' desk.

The man sported a toupee that did little to hide his balding pattern. It was red like the rest of his dyed hair, save the gray temples.

"How's that exposé on Warner coming?" he barked. He was reading through a rough draft.

"It's… great," Natalie shifted to her other foot. "I didn't get the draft back from editing yet," she quietly admitted.

Blue eyes finally looked up at the reporter. "I had to put a lot of red on it, Green. I have Phil doing my back-up on it. He'll get it back to you." He pointed at her. "Make those corrections!"

"Oh, right. Yes sir." That wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, considering she'd written the first draft of her story on Blair from sheer memory, experience and just from knowing her down through the years.

"When you get it back, bring it in here and we'll go over it," Harris scribbled on the draft he was reading.

"Okay."

Natalie let out a held breath. She was relieved he didn't get loud with her, which was the chief editor's reputation. He'd cussed and fussed out many a reporter, usually sending them back to their desk in tears. _Break 'em down to build them up_ \- t _o toughen you up and make you a better journalist_ , had been his war cry.

"Um… is that all, sir?" she tapped her pen on her pad.

"That's all." The man went back to his paper, then suddenly looked up. "Green!"

Natalie ducked _, Almost made it out_. "Yes sir?"

Harris sat back in his seat, giving the young reporter a look over. "Get into Warner's private world and dig up something of substance." He waited for a few seconds, the woman in front of him giving him a wide stare. "Why aren't you taking this down?"

Natalie fumbled, finally writing down the information. "Yes sir!" She scribbled fast. "Dig up dirt."

Harris frowned, "Not dirt, Green, get something personal, something the public may not suspect!"

Natalie blinked at the man a bit confused. "But sir, isn't that sort of the same thing? I mean—"

"Hell no, Green! It isn't the same thing!" Harris picked up a pencil and put it in his mouth, biting it. "I don't want unknowns, gossip, I want FACTS!" He gave her a hard stare.

"Got it." Natalie underlined the words 'facts.' "I'll get to work on this soon and—"

"Not good enough," Harris went back to reading his drafts.

Natalie stood there, a confused look on her face. "I thought you wanted—"

"A good reporter goes after their story when it's convenient, Green." He glanced up at her. "A great reporter goes after _her_ story right away… no time like the present, Green. You gotta' catch 'em off guard."

Harris picked up the draft and turned in his seat. "Close the door on your way out," he said around the pencil in his mouth.

Natalie nodded. "Thank you, sir." She shut the door, then made her way to her cubicle, checking her watch. Natalie sat and contemplated a plan… one to catch Blair at home and in the wild, so to speak. _She'll give me her undivided attention while I get close and personal… away from the office._

Natalie brought out a fresh piece of paper and began writing on it, then turned and opened a file on her computer. She smiled to herself. "No time like the present."

* * *

Most board meetings went exceptionally well for the hierarchy of Warner Textiles Corporation. Usually all everyone wanted to be informed about was the stock profile, a few lucrative stories about the new divisions and then go home with a positive prospectus.

It was reaching into late afternoon and Blair had stood with her father and Miles Winstead in front of eight other board members and numerous executive managers, answering an onslaught of questions about the Asian division. They were drilled about the plans to improve expansion and the fate of the warehouses that had been eliminated by Joyce Warner.

It was to be known _she_ had decided to take them down. Miles had seen to that, being crystal clear to their constituents. David had even defended him as Blair, quietly watched; gathering her own personal fortress of information. She'd need it. The pending onslaught of more inquiries by the top branch executives was imminent.

They had spent three and a half hours in the boardroom. It would be almost five o' clock before the doors of the outer lobby would burst open. Blair was the first to exit after being bombarded with questions and held captive to explain the plans for rebuilding in the region.

The rebuilding having been her idea, _her baby_ as she called it. She wanted the project to go smoothly. It would, undoubtedly, look good for her first turn out of the gate as president.

She hastily made her way over to the small snack and dessert table that had been set up. Pouring a hot cup of coffee, she added a few cubes of sugar, then grabbed a Danish. It was much needed and she savored the first bite with relish. She'd skipped lunch preparing for the meeting – they all had. It was a small sacrifice to make when the company's bottom line was in jeopardy.

"Blair, well done. I guess the region was probably due for a face lift anyway, save the warehouses."

Emily Gasturson had caught up with her. The marketing and advertising executive poured herself a cup of coffee. "I liked your final numbers for the new division. Glad we got those past your father." She blew on it, taking a sip.

Blair swallowed, then wiped her mouth. "Well worth all of our hard work." She took another bite of Danish.

"Let's just hope the board will accept them," Emily tapped a finger on her foam cup.

Blair hummed in agreement. "Full review won't be until the Tokyo numbers are in."

That would be Robert's report. He had inadvertently skipped the meeting, and it was well noticed. Blair made a mental note to get with him later.

"Are we going to have a problem?" Emily's brow rose in question.

Blair stirred a bit more sugar into her coffee. "I'll take care of that." She took another sip, wincing at the flavor, then adding more coffee.

"Blair, wonderful job," a salt and pepper haired man came up to her.

She took a small step back as the marketing and financial executive, Barry Winstead, smiled at her. He'd always been quite oblivious to other people's personal space and was within an inch or so shy of being inappropriately close during a regular conversation.

"Thanks Barry," she smiled at him. "I think your father handled the warehouse situation quite well actually."

The man nodded in agreement. His father, Miles, had always taken the helm whenever a critical matter came about within the company. He was senior level, and quite trusted among the board members. They listened to him. All Blair had to do was back him up, and of course, _lie_ about the reason for the debacle.

She looked up as the boardroom doors swung open. Her father, who was surrounded by a small crowd of executives, was busy answering questions and fending off further inquiries.

Blair smirked, shaking her head. She _felt_ for him. She checked her watch. "I have a meeting with the division managers." She grabbed her cup of coffee then two more Danishes, wrapping them in a napkin.

"Are you going to make it to the luncheon tomorrow?" Barry asked.

He was referring to a special divisional _thing_ that was held at one of the downtown plaza's for all of the area executives of major corporations. It was for networking and pretty much _leaking_ trade secrets. At least that was Blair's experience at last year's event.

"I'm thinking of sending someone over for Warner." She checked her watch again. "You know that JTI capstone project leaves my time thin now-a-days," she offered a bleak smile at that.

"Oh, that's right." Emily recollected the young woman who had been placed in the lobby outside of Blair's office. "Ms. Smith is my little analyst from there," she gave a strained smile.

"Good thing I don't have an executive assistant yet. Jo's got the perfect place to work… outside of my office," Blair pointed out.

Barry bit into a finger sandwich. "Norman Denzola's working from my outer office now," he paused, "guy comes in, does his work, sometimes asks me a few questions, then he's gone for the day." He looked at Blair. "He mentioned you went to school with Ms. Polniaczek," he alluded to a question.

"Yes, in Peekskill," Blair offered, then realized time was slipping from her. She gestured toward the elevator. "I really have to go, they're probably waiting for me."

Emily waved her away. "Go, by all means Blair," she smiled. "We'll do lunch and talk about our plan for the board."

By ' _we_ ' she indicated all three of them, since she, Barry and Blair had cooked up the numbers to fund the new regional division. They had been working on the idea for the last few months. The fact that Blair was now president posed a unique opportunity to get their plan approved by the board.

The two executives watched as Blair finally entered the elevator and left the floor.

Emily popped a small tomato in her mouth, chewing it, she turned to face Barry. "I think we're going to get this thing through with few problems."

Barry gave the redhead a tight grin, turning a satisfied glance down the hall Blair had just traveled. "I couldn't agree more."

* * *

Jo slowly released a breath and stilled her typing. She had been working on the latest calculations of the capstone, and was determined to finish the block before she took off for the day. She threw in the last few numbers before finalizing them.

She'd almost forgotten to change the dressing around her wound and got up to go to the restroom while Blair was out of the office and not on the same floor. It was private, and thankfully, the cameras not allowed in there. She rewrapped her torso, having applied the prescribed ointment to the gash and checked her stitches. The wound was still swollen and red and seeped a bit of fluid.

It had been a jagged rock that did the damage. When she'd been forced off her bike and slung to the ground - she went right over it, the sharp, hard edge grazing then piercing her side so fast she'd been unaware at first.

Jo pulled her shirt back down into her dress pants before exiting the restroom and heading back to her station. She noticed Blair's door was slightly open.

 _She must be back_. Jo headed over, then peered into the office. Blair was at her desk, engrossed in her pad, typing fast; slinging papers from one stack to the other.

Jo her watched for a while from across the room, then tapped on the doorframe lightly. "Hey."

Blair looked up, squinting. "Hi."

Jo bit back a grin. "I'm getting ready to head out now. You need anything?"

Blair held up her fingers, wiggling them. "More hands?" She grimaced playfully, then chuckled.

Jo couldn't help but smile back. "Looks like you're going to be here for a while," she gave her friend a soft laugh.

"I'm afraid so," Blair agreed, indicating her busy, paper filled desk.

She sighed, deciding to take a small break. She looked across the room. Jo was casually leaning against the doorframe. Her gaze was almost piercing, and Blair leaned back in her chair, licking her lips slightly. She returned the gaze, openly raking her eyes over Jo's form, from head to toe; perhaps a little unconsciously.

She noticed a slight blush color Jo's cheeks at the assessment, and felt herself flush in return; they both mutually averted their eyes.

Blair made a small moaning noise then cleared her throat _. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to her_. She glanced down at a spreadsheet. _I'm being silly. She'll be fine_. She just simply had to learn to trust that security wouldn't let anyone within ten miles of The Warner Building, the family, executives… friends. Both Jo and her father had reassured her.

She flicked the wispy bangs from her forehead. She knew she had to be reasonable, keep her fears in check and go on as Jo had said – business as usual. That seemed to be their mantra as of late.

Jo carefully pushed off from the doorframe. "Well, I'll get out of your hair then," she nodded then turned, making her way over to her desk.

She tapped in a few commands, shutting her system down, then packed up her briefcase and headed for the elevator.

"Jo?"

The soft voice was startling and Jo turned to see Blair quietly coming toward her.

"Yeah?" She switched the briefcase to her other hand while pushing the down button.

Blair took a few steps toward the brunette. "I was serious before when I said, we'll work something out." She noticed the nod from Jo. "I _do_ want you safe."

She was adamant, that much was quite clear and, Jo sensed. very determined. She hummed in agreement. She was flattered, to be quite honest. Her friend and former _childhood agitator_ had, over time and much distance - become someone whom she valued and cared for… _very much_.

"I know," Jo didn't really have more to say to that. She inhaled a breath. "Your dad's detail will follow me around town, then back to my place," she explained.

Blair nodded. "Did you ride your bike here this morning?"

 _Fair question, Blair_. But due to her injury, riding the motorcycle was a big no-no. Doctor's orders – until the stitches came out.

"I took a cab in this morning." The side of Jo's mouth twitched to a grin as she watched the blonde almost collapse with relief.

Blair regained herself as the elevator arrived. The doors slid open and Jo entered, pressing the lobby button.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Jo stopped the doors from closing by sticking her arm between them, much to Blair's amusement.

"What?" she asked.

"Computer guys came in while you were gone. They said you knew they were coming to service your computer."

"Oh, yes," Blair acknowledged. "I actually told them to do a routine clean and virus removal."

In exchange for an entire hard drive removal, Jo guessed. So Blair had cancelled her uncle's regular _purging_. It made sense seeing that the information was void and non-existent now. She'd seen to that; which was, of course, something Blair didn't need to know.

"Good idea," Jo agreed, her arm was getting tired, "I won't keep you," she looked toward the president's office. "I know you have a lot of work to get to."

Blair offered a smile. She mentally made a note that Jo was doing her _nice_ thing again. She put a hand on Jo's rather stiff arm. "Please take care of yourself."

Jo sighed, "Blair stop worrying about me, okay?" She dropped her arm, then reached over and pressed the _hold_ button to keep the doors open.

Blair had quietly stepped into the elevator and it was then that Jo knew the dire consequences that arose when on a case this vital. Especially when she found her arms full of the woman whom she was to keep calm and protect.

Jo dropped her briefcase as she suddenly felt the arms go around her. Blair moved her head to be buried in the crook of her neck and Jo couldn't help but respond by putting an arm around her. She held it there, gently; while her other hung loosely at her side.

Blair made a comforted sound. Jo smelled of soap and that special "Jo" scent she was all too familiar with, having lived with her for so long.

"Blair."

"Shh, just…" Blair released her hold, only loosening her arms, but keeping her hands on Jo's shoulders. She noticed green eyes avoiding hers. "Let me say this, please?"

"What?" Jo shifted, edging herself to the side. She pulled away a little to put a bit of distance between the two of them.

There was a sharp puff of exasperation as she rolled her eyes, and Blair suddenly found the gesture quite endearing. Truth be told, she had always found that pouting, girlish quality quite _cute_ …

And attractive.

She bit the inside of her lip and released Jo, stepping back, while running a hand through her hair.

Jo waited. Her cheeks were dotted a deep crimson red, and she could feel her palms starting to sweat. _Keep your composure_.

"I..." Blair held up a halting hand to rethink what she was about to say. "I have a responsibility to any and everyone working at this company to ensure their safety."

Jo picked up her briefcase. Not this again, she thought, but remained silent. She waited.

"So with that, I trust you will get home safely then back to the office by nine tomorrow morning," Blair said with conviction.

Jo pressed the lobby button again. "I promise."

"You do?" Blair started to back out of the elevator.

"Blair, will you let me go?" Jo tapped the button again, wishing the doors would make up their mind to close already.

"Okay. " Blair watched as the doors slowly slid together, noticing another eye roll, she gave her flustered friend a toothy smile. "Bye."

The doors closed completely and Blair dropped her smile. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ She turned slowly; she didn't dare let her thoughts go there. "This is just nerves, just the fear talking." Blair took a deep breath, shaking any notions and feelings from her system.

She started to make her way back to her office, slowing a bit at Jo's desk as she absentmindedly ran a fingertip along the surface of it. _But_ s _he's so attractive to me._ She stopped her actions and rolled incredulous eyes at that.

Admitting it. _She always has been_.

Okay I went there. She closed her eyes at the thought. "Don't mess up things by… _sigh_."

"Jo is working _with_ you, this is a first. Make of it what you will. Fine. But we both have a project to get through and finish," she chastised herself.

Blair crossed her arms over her chest as she causally stepped into her office. The day was slowly winding down, the sun starting to set behind the tall skyscrapers; casting the room in a gray hue.

She took a few slow steps toward her desk. _Amanda is right, though._ Her hips swayed a little as a wispy smile found its way to her lips. _She is gorgeous_.

She eyed the sobering stack of papers she had been previously working on. "May as well just dive back in."

Her phone chirped and Blair glanced at the screen. It was Amanda. "Hey."

 _"Hi. Are you busy?"_

"Um..." Blair took a seat. "Actually, I'm swamped."

 _"I was hoping we could have dinner tonight."_

"I really can't," Blair sat her phone down, tapping on the speakerphone icon. She picked up a contract and examined it, noting a few vague references as she circled them.

" _I have an idea."_

"What?" She circled three more lines before moving on to the next contract.

 _"Seeing that you're swamped and tied to the office for a while, why don't I just bring dinner to you when you get home later?"_ There was a moment of silence then, " _Blair?"_

Blair blinked, as she put the paper down. "Uh... yeah, sure. That'd be quite nice."

She leaned back in her chair barely remembering what she'd just been asked and had agreed to.

 _"Good, then it's all set?"_

"I-I really don't know how long I'll be here so…" Blair shifted through the stack of papers.

 _"I'll tell you what. Call me when you're leaving the office and I'll pick up something from that little bistro you love and bring it right over_." Amanda waited for a beat. _"Sound good?"_

Blair inhaled, thinking. "Sure." _Food. Right_. "Thank you. I hadn't figured out dinner tonight."

Amanda smiled at that _. "My pleasure. I'll see you later then?"_

Blair nodded. "Yes."

 _"Bye."_

"Bye."

Blair tapped off their conversation. She started to tap in another number, her finger hovering over the screen. "I'll just text her later… once she's had enough time to get home."

She turned looking out over the large expanse of buildings. It was an uncomfortable and eerie feeling knowing there were people out there willing to bring down the company as a means of revenge: and on _her_ watch. Blair closed her eyes and meditated a bit. Concentrating, she could still feel Jo's hand on her back as they had held each other in the elevator. It sent an unexpected rippling of warmth that surrounded her and calmed her… _almost like this morning_.

A smile tugged at her and she opened her eyes, focusing on the sobering view. Reality pierced her senses and she felt an incessant mood settle over her, driving her to be even more determined.

 _Not on my watch_.

* * *

The trail had seemed longer than usual. Expected, of course, as Jo took slow and careful steps along the path. She held firm to Ace's leash; careful not to walk too fast or make any sudden, erratic moves as she cleared the end of the path and headed back to her apartment.

She had exchanged her work attire for loose jogging shorts and a tank top, complete with jogging shoes and a bottle filled with ice water.

"C'mon boy," Jo carefully tugged him away from yet another small bush as he attempted to mark it.

She came up the slight hill that led to the row of brownstone apartments. Each one had a small patch of grass that counted as a front yard. Not easy to do in the city, but many of Jo's neighbors had made the best of it. Most notably, Meo De Palma who had a beautiful rose and herbal garden.

It was delightful, and actually enhanced the neighborhood as several rose bushes of different colors peppered the front of the home. Then, on the side of the brownstone, Meo had carefully grown and tilled an assortment of herbs and medicinal plants and flowers. She often used them to cook with and of course, as a means of treating and curing many ailments. Such were the ways of her ancestors. Being from Beijing, China, Meo had immigrated to the United States forty years ago. She had worked as a nurse for many years before retiring. She had met and fallen in love with an Italian man – a restaurateur - Edgar De Palma over thirty years ago. They had four boys; now all grown.

Their courtship had been stormy, as both of their families had shunned and forbidden their engagement. But they prevailed and withstood the onslaught of disapproving words and judgments by both their families and by perfect strangers.

Jo had met the opinionated woman when she'd first moved back to the city, a little over a week ago. They talked in the evenings when she got home from work and had formed a friendship of sorts.

She slowly approached Meo, as the woman had her back to her, bent over, working around her roses. She had on a wide brimmed hat and gardening gloves as she used a hoe to chop at the weeds.

Jo admired her colorful display of roses. "Hi Mrs. De Palma. How are you?

The petite woman straightened and gave Jo a smile, then looked down seeing the panting dog at her side. "I fine… but he!" She pointed to Ace who whined at the gesture.

Jo grimaced. _Uh oh._

"He pee my flower!" She shook her hoe at the dog; causing him to bark guiltily, then hide behind Jo's legs.

"I'm really sorry about that ma'am." Jo jerked the leash a bit keeping Ace from winding around her legs. The last thing she needed was to fall down. She gave him a tight look. "He won't do that again," she commanded.

Meo slowly nodded. "Good, good," she wiped at her brow. "He good dog, but…." She sized him up for a second, noting his fidgety ways and his wagging tongue. "He need good lay," she concluded.

Jo hiked a smirk at that. She kept herself from laughing out loud. "Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot. Believe me."

Meo continued to jab at a particularly stubborn weed. "You get him girlfriend, yeah?" she asked.

Jo ducked as a few roots and leaves were slung past her. "I'm thinking about it," she lied.

"Good. Good," Meo stopped then turned and smiled at Jo, taking in her appearance. She nodded, her mind made up. "You get girlfriend too," she went back to de-weeding her flowerbed.

Jo stood there silently. _What?_

Meo kept on digging, finally getting down to the dirt. "You need girlfriend," she spared Jo a look over her shoulder. "Good for you."

"Oh, yeah well…" Jo shifted her stance.

"Whoof!"

Green eyes glared down at the treasonous dog, who looked up at her wagging his tail. "Traitor," she mumbled.

"No good be alone," Meo pushed the dirt into place around her rose bush.

"I'm working on it," Jo held her tongue. It felt quite uncomfortable talking about her love life.

Meo didn't respond for a moment then nodded her head, deciding to end their conversation as she always did. "Okay, bye."

Jo knew her cue. "See you later, Mrs. De Palma." She saw the slight wave from the woman. Grunting, she gently made her way up the steps to her apartment.

"I leave herb with your father!" Meo said abruptly, and pointed to Jo's side. "For you, heal!"

Jo lifted a brow at that. "Thank you." Jo saw the woman nod then go back to tilling.

"C'mon boy." She let Ace go in front of her as she opened the door. The Jack Russell sprinted to his water bowl, lapping at it with fervor.

Jo eyed her father sitting on the couch. His casted leg was propped up on the coffee table. She hung up Ace's leash, then made her way over to him.

Charlie Polniaczek looked up as his daughter approached. "Hey."

"You told Mrs. De Palma I'm gay?!"

Startled hazel eyes looked at Jo with confusion. "What's the matter with that?"

Jo put her hands on her hips, her brow creased with frustration. "Pop, you can't do that!" She sent him an angry stare.

"Why not? You said you were _out_ ," Charlie waved the remote in his hand.

" _Not_ to… " Jo shook her head making her way over to the kitchen. "It's _my_ call pop, not yours. You can't go around telling people unless you clear it with me first!"

Charlie sensed the anger was reaching a boiling point within his daughter. "Oh." He felt bewildered. _I don't get this_ _gay stuff too good._ He shifted on the couch. "Okay…"

"Just leave that up to me, can you do that?" Jo opened the cupboard getting out a bag of dog food.

"Sure, sure. Whatever," Charlie tossed back at her. He watched as she filled Ace's bowl, the dog trying to dig in before she could finish pouring his bowl full.

He winced in sympathy as Jo struggled to put the bag back in the cupboard. He'd seen her grimace as she walked around the apartment. "How's your side?"

"Better," Jo answered, finally setting the bag back on the shelf.

"You sure you're supposed to be walkin' around so much? What if you pop a stitch or somethin,' huh?"

Charlie was the first person Jo had called after being admitted to the hospital. He had arranged to have her taken to one of the facilities in the city, by cab. He met her there and stayed with her until she was cleared to go home hours later. It would be one o'clock in the morning before they would get back to the apartment.

Charlie had bawled her out about speeding on her bike, after she'd told him she had hit a pothole in the road, toppling her off of her bike. He made sure Jo took her pain pills on the hour, and forced her to change the dressing on the wound before it got infected. Jo could be a bit stubborn when it came to her own, personal care.

"I needed the exercise. Besides, there was no one else available to walk Ace," Jo pointed to Charlie's injured foot. "Speaking of which, he's been peeing all over the De Palma's flowers again."

Charlie shrugged. "Eh, he's territorial," He started flipping through the channels. "And horny," he added.

"There seems to be a consensus he needs a girlfriend," Jo said opening a bag of chips.

Charlie lifted a teasing brow at that. "Speaking of which…" he smiled slyly.

Jo cringed. _Crap. Set that one right up_. "Pop," she said in a warning tone as she emptied the bag in a large bowl.

"What? I was just gonna' to say, you kinda' fit that M.O. yourself." He couldn't help but chuckle at the look on Jo's face.

"Knock it off. I do not." She came over setting the bowl on the coffee table, grabbing a hand full of chips.

"Do so," Charlie leaned over a grabbed a few chips.

Jo watched him. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm sayin' ever since you had the guts to come out to me, I feel like I should look out for you. You know, push you out there to do some datin'."

"No thanks, I can handle my own affairs," Jo carefully settled down on the couch beside her father.

"I can handle my own affairs, well whoop-tee-doo!" Charlie mocked, then crunched a chip loudly. He twisted on the couch to face her. "Hear me out."

A guarded leer. "What?"

"You remember Manny's daughter, Pamela?"

 _Ah, geez, here we go_. "Yeah? What about her?" She grabbed the remote from his hand.

"You said she had nice legs once."

"Mere observation," Jo clicked through the channels, finally settling on ESPN for the baseball scores.

"Observation, my ass. I saw the little twinkle you had," Charlie ate his last chip, then dusted off his hands, giving his daughter a teasing grin.

"There was no twinkle!" Jo sneered at him, then turned up the volume.

"Yeah, right. Look, Jo, you're a Polniaczek, and it doesn't matter a crap if you're a _base-ball sexual,_ we wear our hearts on our sleeves."

Jo kept her eyes on the scores while munching a chip. She slowly looked over at her father, who was waiting for her to say something. "Is this your way of dumping on the Mets again?"

Charlie's face fell, then drew up in aggravation. "I don't have to dump on the Mets, the Mets dump enough on the Mets." He backhanded her lightly on the shoulder. "Stay with me here."

"I'm not going out with her!" Jo stated, then got up to go to the kitchen.

"Why not?"

She grabbed two cans of root beer from the refrigerator. "Is she even gay, Pop? Did you check?"

"She just broke up with her girlfriend," Charlie said quickly.

"And you think I want to be the rebound girl?" Jo handed him a can.

"Five months ago, you didn't let me finish!"

"Not happening," Jo took a sip of root beer.

"C'mon, it'll be good for you to get outta' the house once in a while."

"I have plenty to keep me busy." She eyed her father then made her way to her bedroom. _Conversation over._

"In the evenings!" Charlie yelled after her.

"Forget it!" Jo tossed back at him, before loudly closing her room door.

Charlie shook his head, grabbing the remote. He started to flip through the channels. "Eh, we'll see… ya' stubborn little brat."

* * *

Blair slid the key into her keypad unlocking the door, as she bounded into the penthouse – setting down her briefcase and kicking off her shoes. She didn't bother putting the alarm on and ambled her way over to the refrigerator. Peeking in, then finding it, she smiled, taking out her favorite box of chocolates.

Plucking one from the container, Blair sunk her teeth into the savory morsel - closing her eyes and humming her approval at the sudden burst of flavor. _God, sooo good_. She leaned against the counter and chewed the dark chocolate ganache. The chocolates were from her favorite boutique: La Masion Du Chocolat, in Paris, France. It didn't hurt she also knew the owner and master chef personally. He had dusted the truffles with a bit more chocolate, like she'd asked him to.

Blair put the box back in the refrigerator, then made her way down the hall to her room. She noticed Gigi's room door was open. _Oh, that's right. She's with Meg._ Such was their arrangement. Blair and Meg had worked out an agreement where the little dog would spend the day at the mansion a few times a week; mostly because Blair feared she'd get lonely during the day at the penthouse, and needed to be around a family member. She'd axed taking her to dog camp – the larger dogs being too intimidating. Meg usually brought her back into the city in the evenings, after Blair had settled in after work.

Unless Blair had other plans… like tonight. She had called Meg explaining a late meeting, and telling her to just keep Gigi for the night.

Blair took a quick shower, letting the tension and grit of the day wash away and dissipate with her mood. She felt warm, light, but in the back of her mind she felt tension. She hated the feeling, that of _worry_.

She toweled off then looked at her reflection in the mirror. Was the tension starting to show on her face now? At almost 28, Blair was in a constant state of denial about her last two years of youth – as she'd called them. Thirty was just lurking around the corner. She shuttered.

She tapped under a firm chin, noting no sagging, _yet._ A smirk, then Blair moved to put on a simple cotton dress and comfortable shoes. She looked at the assortment of perfumes on her dressing table, and decided to pick something subtle. "Hmm, nothing too overwhelming." Dabbing a bit on her fingertips, she smoothed the fragrance into her cleavage and behind her ears. She smiled, enjoying the aroma. "Not bad."

Moving to the kitchen she grabbed a set of china and silverware, for two. She set the table that was in front of the large windows leading to her balcony. The view was simply spectacular at night. There were already two candles on the table, and with a few adjustments, everything was ready. "There."

Blair glanced at her cell phone. "Still no reply."

She had texted Jo over forty minutes ago. She noted that Jo had sent a clear message for her not to be so overbearing … but really... a simple question of _: did you make it home safely_? How hard was it to text a one word answer, yes or no?

Blair looked out over the expanse of the city. Her mind wandering to the events of the day… to what had happened this morning. _Temporary insanity_? She chuckled wistfully, Maybe… maybe not.

She had caught the looks Jo had given her throughout the day. They were subtle, yet more than a friendly inquiry, she deduced. There was something else… _deeper_. Blair wound a string of hair around her finger. Perhaps the attraction she felt for the stubborn woman had been reflected back in those beautiful green eyes. _Perhaps_.

Bair let out a frustrated sigh. How fair was it that Jo was out and open about her sexuality and… she sighed again. "I'm not being fair." She knew this to be true. Jo regarded her as a friend, colleague and now - business acquaintance. Nothing more.

Blair moved along the expanse of the windows in reflection. Do I even want more? She pursed her lips. _Jo thinks I'm a man crazy socialite_. She almost laughed at that. "She would be more than shocked at how I've come to figure things out."

Or would she? Blair thought.

They'd known each other through most of their adolescence. The competitive fighting, arguing and tension between them was almost tangible. And yet, Blair had always sensed a thread of _something_ shared between them. Scary as it was to admit back then, she found herself examining their unique friendship quite a lot lately.

Especially after Jo had left for California five years ago.

The doorbell rang snapping Blair out of her musing. She strode over, a bit confused as to why Amanda would ring the bell when she had a key card. She opened it.

"Natalie?"

The reporter was sporting a wide grin and carrying a briefcase. Blair hiked a brow in question.

"Hi. Can I come in?" Natalie didn't wait for an answer and made her way into the penthouse. "I was in the neighborhood, and thought – this would be a great time to catch you in the moment."

She turned and faced Blair who was looking at her in confusion. "The moment?" Blair closed the door.

"You know. Candidly. For the exposé," Natalie clarified.

"I understand, but this isn't a good time," Blair said. She was starting to feel nervous, not quite sure what she'd say if Natalie was still there when Amanda came in. _She'll text me when she's in the lobby._ Blair remembered to tell Amanda to inform William when she had arrived. Just in case…

"Oh?" Natalie sat her briefcase down on the sofa and looked around the penthouse. "Expecting someone?"

She spied the table set up by the window and produced a cunning grin. "Paul perhaps?"

Blair internally rolled her eyes. _Okay, go with it_. "Actually yes," she smiled insincerely. "But I'm so exhausted, I'm afraid it's going to be a short night," Blair stated tightly.

The penthouse door abruptly burst open producing a slightly disheveled woman with her arms full of bags. "Blair, oh my God, William got called away from his post and you wouldn't believe what… um..." She drifted off noticing a guest standing in Blair's living room, who was smiling brightly at her.

Amanda recovered quickly, returning the smile. "Hello."

"Hi." Natalie watched as the woman turned an almost purple shade of red. _Interesting. "_ Natalie Green. We met at the Villa Manzi Gallery a day ago?"

"Ah, yes, I remember. Blair's school friend."

Natalie nodded, then noticed red pedals peeking out from one of the bags. "Nice flowers."

Amanda inhaled suddenly, having realized the long stemmed roses were visible, "Oh, yes, I um…" she trailed off looking anxiously at Blair. "They're from Paul," she got out.

 _Nice save_. Blair heaved a sigh of relief. "Y-yes. Paul." Blair moved to take them from her, throwing her a 'play along' look.

"He always sends flowers when he's going to be late," Blair said. She smelled them while taking them into the kitchen. "Thank you for bringing them up for him, Amanda. You saved poor William a trip," she shouted across the room. She found a glass vase and filled it with water; then arranged the bouquet into it.

"My pleasure. I guess I was in the right place at the right time," Amanda gave Blair a relieved gesture as she returned to the living room.

"I'll take those bags, Amanda. Thank you." Blair set them on the kitchen counter. "So nice of you to bring over dinner for Paul and me," she announced with flair.

"Not a problem," Amanda said succinctly, stuffing her hands in her pockets. She smiled at Natalie again.

Natalie looked between the two. "So," she clasped her hands together. "Ms. Palmero."

Amanda tilted her head at that. "Please. Call me Amanda."

"Amanda," Natalie began. "What brings you here?"

Amanda sputtered for a bit then, "Well, I—"

"I called her," Blair cut in. "I wanted to talk about that new artist, um…"

"Brown," Amanda supplied hastily.

"Yes. Brian Brown," Blair addressed Natalie. "He has a new exhibit at the gallery and I wanted to buy a few pieces. For the office," she finished.

"I think he would be a good fit, Blair," Amanda said. "He has many pieces with warm tans and browns… very earthy," she continued.

She turned her attention to Natalie. _Enough is enough_. "So, Ms. Green."

"Natalie, please," Natalie said. She was more than a little intrigued by the tension she sensed.

"Ah, yes. Natalie," Amanda smiled at that. "Are you interested in Brown as well?" She asked a little over enthusiastically.

"Actually, Natalie is doing an exposé on me," Blair cut in abruptly.

"Really… an exposé? How interesting." Grey eyes turned slowly to Natalie.

Natalie nodded. "Yes, well, actually, I'm trying to get a glimpse of Blair away from the office." A grin. "At home."

"I see." Amanda peeked at Blair, who shrugged. "Are you a writer?"

"Actually, I'm a reporter." _Let's see how that settles in_. She watched as Amanda made a surprised face. "For the New York Times." Natalie said with an air of confidence.

"The Times. You don't say," Amanda cracked a half smile at that.

"Yes, and we'll be doing a feature on the newly crowned president of Warner Textiles as soon as I get my story to the presses."

"Wonderful," Amanda drawled out, shifting her focus to Blair. "Blair?"

"Yes?"

"May I speak with you…" Amanda looked at the reporter, giving her a tight smile that reached her eyes. "In private?"

Natalie practically felt the temperature in the room change, but she kept her face unreadable – getting the hint. "Oh, I'll just leave the two of you for a moment." She turned and made her way to the balcony. "I've always loved the view from up here."

Amanda waited until the balcony door was shut tight. "You never told me your friend worked for the Times." She studied Blair, who was doing her best – what difference does that make - face.

"What difference does that make?"

Amanda waved a non-committal hand, "Nothing. None. I just…" She dramatically breathed a long breath of frustration. "I was hoping we could be alone this evening."

Blair looked into the sorrowful eyes. She really hadn't considered what Amanda was proposing. A quick dinner, sure, but anything else? She wasn't in the mood.

She made up her mind. She was dog tired, to tell the truth. The bombardment of visitors this evening was not something she was prepared for. "Actually, it's been a long, tiring day. I just want to eat something and crash," she answered honestly.

"Oh, I totally agree, Blair," Amanda inclined her head toward the balcony. Natalie was busy taking in the view.

She studied the woman in front of her, coming to a conclusion. "I was thinking we could cuddle a little tonight." She gave Blair what she deemed her best _come hither_ expression, "Just me and you."

Blair felt the fingertips of the woman in front of her on her elbows, slightly, tenderly drawing her in. She wanted to giggle at the prodding. She found it a little bit endearing and caved at the tempting smile of her companion. "I'd like that," she said softly before sneaking a peek at Natalie.

"Good. We'll just have to tell Paul he isn't invited," Amanda joked, which produced a saucy laugh from Blair.

"Good save by the way," Blair said.

"I do aim to please," Amanda moved her hands to grab Blair's elbows, drawing her closer.

"Thank you for the flowers," Blair smiled, letting herself get drawn in.

They were within inches of each other. "I aim to please," Amanda said softly, noting brown eyes constantly checking to see if Natalie was watching. _So let her, Blair_. She moved to place a kiss on her forehead.

Blair took a quick step back, "Amanda, not here, please," Blair shot her a look before turning concerned eyes to the balcony.

Amanda dropped her hands. "Well, why don't we get rid of your little friend so we can be alone?" Her tone was agitated.

Blair took another step back, glancing at Natalie. "She's a very good friend of mine. I'll talk to her for a minute then she'll be on her way. Just give us a moment," Blair said.

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine then." She watched as Blair went over to the balcony and opened the doors. Natalie was totally engrossed in the expanse of the skyline.

"Nat?" Blair walked over to her friend. The wind had stirred a bit, blowing a section of her hair across her face. She pulled it back as she took in the expanse of the city. It was warm, and she could smell a hint of jasmine that came from the small rooftop garden she had been growing. She had added tulips and geraniums to round out her collection.

"You know, Blair, you are so lucky. It's so tranquil up here," Natalie took in a calming lung full of air.

They both shared a moment admiring the scenery, and the lack of traffic noise.

"Yeah. I love coming out here just to think sometimes," Blair admitted, her voice tender.

Natalie turned, agreeing with her. "So. Are we set?" She took out a small recording device from her pocket and held it up.

 _Standard procedure_. Blair knew it well. Her family had been subject to many articles and write-ups about them. This was no different. Natalie understood things were to be kept above board, and with only a few unknown gems about her life that she chose to reveal. "Sure."

They sat down on the patio furniture Blair had meticulously arranged. There were two recliners, and a table that seated four. They had decided to sit in two regular chairs facing each other.

"Look Nat, I'll give you a few minutes but I really am exhausted, and then Paul—" Blair reiterated.

"I totally understand," Natalie said, as she set her recorder on the wide arm of the chair. She looked into the living room seeing Amanda seated on the couch engrossed in her phone.

"Was Amanda leaving? Or…" Natalie asked.

Blair glanced at Amanda. "Oh," she laughed and waved a hand at Natalie. "No, um, she said she'd wait until we were done, then I'm going to look over few pictures of hers."

She smiled, then felt as though that wasn't sufficient enough. "Brown's work… you remember… for the office?" she stated, nervously clearing her throat. "It won't take that long, I'm sure."

Natalie looked at Blair, letting a few beats go by. "Suit yourself."

She tapped the record button, indicating she was starting their session, which lasted about a half hour. Natalie had asked her all the regular 'soft' questions. Then she went out on a limb and asked about her dating life since obtaining her J.S.D. from Langley College. Was that intimidating to prospective men? Was she as much a socialite as she was in college since she now had a full time corporate position? Did she want to get married anytime soon?

Blair had answered them all with poise and grace, which was what she was raised to do, and did effortlessly. Such was the case for keeping things close to the heart and out of the mainstream. She knew her family's business would be the first to be affected by any _wrong_ answer.

Natalie turned off the recorder. "Okay, well, we'll stop here. I have quite a bit of information." She stood. "I'll just start working on this for a rough draft." She stuffed the recorder in her pants pocket. "I'll get going and let you enjoy your evening." She took one last view of the city before leaving the balcony.

Blair followed her into the living room. "And Natalie."

"Yes?" Natalie made her way to the couch where Amanda had been sitting. The woman was presently in the bathroom.

"Next time, call," Blair lifted an irritated brow. She knew Natalie was trying to expand her career by getting a good story, but she didn't want hers to turn into tabloid fodder.

"I get it, Blair. Now that you're president you're extremely busy and your time is not your own anymore." She picked up her briefcase, putting the strap on her shoulder.

"Something like that," Blair said as they made their way to the door.

Natalie turned. "You're still on the hook for the next Friday we book at Florenza's," she pointed at Blair. She was adamant about that. The last get together had Jo, but the previous two was only her and Tootie… she lived with Tootie.

"I'll try my best," Blair offered.

"Not good enough, Blair," Natalie stood by the door as Blair opened it. She stepped out into the lobby. "I'm glad Jo's back in town. The fact that the two of you are working together has brought you out of hiding," she said wryly.

Blair sighed. "I wasn't hiding, only very busy; and I'll see what I can do," Blair said sternly.

Natalie squinted at her vague friend. She noticed Amanda had entered the room. "Nice seeing you again, Amanda," Natalie announced to her.

"Likewise Natalie. Take care," Amanda waved at Natalie as her smile faltered.

Natalie turned her eyes to Blair. "I mean it, free up that Friday, you've missed at least three of them."

"I said I'll see what I can do," Blair replied, her voice tight.

A smirk. "Try harder. You know what? Try as hard as you did when you found the time to have dinner with Jo a couple of nights ago."

"That was business."

"Ok, fine then. Think of our get together as a business meeting," Natalie smiled slyly.

 _Smarty pants_. Blair had to smile at that as she let the door slowly close. "Bye, Nat."

"Bye, Blair."

Blair was still smiling as she made her way to the kitchen where Amanda was pouring herself a glass of wine. She handed Blair a glass.

"Thank you." She took a much needed sip. "Well, finally." She took out the boxes of food and opened them. "I hope everything's not too cold."

Amanda leaned on the counter edge, watching as Blair moved to get their plates from the table. "I couldn't help overhearing. You had dinner with Ms. Polniaczek recently?"

"Yes. A business dinner." She snuck a peek at Amanda, "We do work together." Blair brought the plates over and started to put food on them; everything was still quite warm.

"It's just you never mentioned anything," Amanda took a sip, her eyes on Blair.

Blair paused. "Why should I?" She caught the resentful look Amanda threw at her. "Don't tell me you're jealous," Blair gave her a disparaging look as she brought their plates to the table. Amanda had already lit the candles.

"Should I be?"

Blair sat the plates on the table. "Amanda," she sat, draping a linen napkin over her lap. "Jo and I are friends. _Good_ friends, nothing more."

Gray eyes regarded her dinner companion for a bit. She had noticed Blair's constant checking of her phone throughout the evening, and now the fact that it was sitting on the table beside her plate? She didn't quite know what to make of it. She grabbed her fork. "Okay."

Blair gave her a smile. _Good_. "Shall we eat before the food gets cold?"

A crooked smile. "Let's make this a nice, quiet evening. Just the two of us," Amanda raised a glass.

"I'm good with that," Blair smiled then clinked their glasses together.

* * *

JTI headquarters had, for the most part, shut down for the day – save one lone light that illuminated on the top floor. Eric's office.

Jo came through the door. She was dressed in sweats. "Don't you ever sleep?" She padded her way over to Eric's desk, and perched a hip on it; careful not to pop her stitches.

"What? Go home to an empty apartment?" He leaned back in his chair and yawned. "Too much to focus on here," he stated. "Besides this isn't my call."

"Really?" Jo lifted surprised eyes at that. "Who called us in then?" She checked her phone. It was ten thirty-two.

"Green." Eric had grabbed a pencil and started beating a rhythm on his desk. "Said she'd be here any minute."

Jo nodded. She shifted around trying to get comfortable on the flat, hard surface. "Any idea what this is about?"

Eric frowned a little. "No clue, really. She said she has valuable information. I told her to bring it here so we can evaluate whatever it is she has."

Both agents looked up as the office door was knocked on, then opened, revealing the slightly disheveled reporter. "Oh, hi guy's."

"Ms. Green have a seat, we've been waiting for you," Eric pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

Natalie sat, feeling relieved. She blew out a breath. "Thanks. You know I thought it was tough getting through security at Warner, you guys grill a person to death. I practically had to give blood before they'd let me through," she said agitatedly.

Jo smiled. She fully understood Natalie's dilemma. "Standard procedure after hours, expect it."

"What do you have for us?" Eric asked.

Natalie cleared her throat, then thought about how to begin. "Well, firstly, I went to see Blair under the guise of doing the exposé… only I actually _was_ working on the exposé because Harris pretty much put the pinch on me to get it done on time, so you can imagine how much—"

"Nat?"

Natalie paused. She looked at Jo who gave her a prodding motion to basically 'get on with it. "Oh, yeah," she gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I tend to ramble when I'm stressed."

Natalie took a breath. "The reason I called you guys in is because while I was there at Blair's penthouse, Amanda comes in and—"

"Wait. Stop," Jo gave her quizzical look. "What do you mean _comes in_?"

"She just walks right in."

Eric smirked. "The key card?"

Natalie gave him a smile. "Correct."

Eric nodded, understanding. "Continue."

"She's got bags and boxes of food and flowers and at first I didn't know what to think."

"So they were going to have dinner together?" Jo figured out.

Natalie shook her head. "At first that's what I thought. But apparently Amanda was just being nice. You see _Paul_ and Blair were having dinner and Amanda was just doing Paul a favor by picking up their food from the restaurant and bringing it over."

The room was silent for a moment as the two agents exchanged looks, mulling over the information.

"And the flowers?" Jo asked.

"Paul's. He sent them because, according to Blair, he always sends flowers when he's late," Natalie finished.

Jo bit the inside of her lip regarding her friend. She crossed her arms lightly over her chest. "So what's the big deal here, Nat?"

Blue eyes went large as Natalie looked between the two agents, then pursed her lips. Deciding. "It was all a lie," she said in a small voice.

"Proof of this, Ms. Green?" Eric sat up in his chair. He didn't like the tone of this whole scenario. He looked over at Jo, suspecting she felt the same way.

"Yeah." Natalie got up from her chair. She looked around the bland office. A chair, a desk and a file cabinet – save the picture of dogs playing poker. _Nice touch_. She focused back on her predicament, clasping her hands behind her back.

"It took me a while to reconcile this with myself. I drove around the block a few times, trying to make sense of everything. I actually stopped at a bar and had a drink," she chuckled bitterly, then paused looking at the two agents. "I don't drink." Natalie's voice wavered a bit. "I have to admit, I was more than a little surprised at what I found out."

Jo's face dropped. "What are you talking about, Nat?"

Natalie swallowed thickly. "Is it okay to talk in front of Agent Nelson?"

Jo's brows knit. "Of course." She hoped nothing was wrong with Blair. Natalie hadn't mentioned anything specific. She pulled out her personal cell phone from her pocket, noticing the battery was dead. _Damn_.

Jo looked at Natalie. "Nat, if this will help the case then, we need to hear it."

Natalie let out a long begrudging sigh. "This will probably blow the case wide open." _And probably everything you've ever thought about Blair, Jo._

"What are you talking about?" Jo walked over to the reporter, eyeing her.

"You think you know a person. Then you hear something you wish you hadn't." She watched as Jo approached her, remaining silent for a moment.

"How bad is this, Nat?" she asked.

"I contemplated three alternatives," Natalie slid her eyes over to Eric, who was watching her with interest. "You guys pretty much have me stuck. I'm a reporter. My job was to get information for the exposé," she paused." And now, I'm an informant for the secret service."

Both Jo and Eric silently acknowledged the truth of that. "What's your other alternative?" Eric asked carefully.

Natalie worked her mouth for a second. "Going to prison for life." She stopped, then shook her head, "I said to myself, I'd rather do that than turn over this information. Then I realized, if I did turn it in, that would probably be my just punishment for having to live with what I've done… so I won't request and inducement."

She took out her cell phone, holding it up as exhibit 'A.'

 _Trouble_. Jo eyed the device. She almost winced at the sight of Natalie's 'trap' phone, as she referred to it. _I wonder what poor Blair doesn't realize she's done now_.

"Play it, Ms. Green," Eric commanded.

Natalie's eyes snapped to his; uncertainty etched her face. "I-I don't know if I want to do this," she stammered, "God, I hate my job sometimes. I just stepped out onto the balcony, I didn't know! I didn't mean to…" she drifted off with an apologetic look.

Natalie's alarm reverberated with Jo and she put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Nat. We'll deal with it," she gave the reporter what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

"For the sake of the case," Eric added.

"Right," Natalie regarded her phone, then tapped it - turning up the volume. She snuck a look at Jo, then turned it off. "I can't do this."

"Ms. Green, this is a federal case involving _our_ client and a potential suspect. Federal law requires your cooperation. Need I remind you of your duty as an informant to—"

"I know!" Natalie held her hands up, frustration evident in her voice. "Alright?!"

She rubbed her forehead. "I Know!" Blue eyes angrily looked at the lead agent, who nodded at her, his face held a grim look.

"Nat," Jo sympathized, "whatever it is—"

"I hate this," Natalie admitted; an overwhelming unease was starting to consume her.

Jo put an arm around her shoulder. "Okay, okay, look, Nat. You _have_ to trust us."

"Oh, Jo," she held Jo's hand on her shoulder. "I do trust you," she said softly. She suddenly felt so small, but determined to keep her composure _. I honestly never thought it would come to this_. _Blair, please forgive me_.

The room was silent for a while; it was getting late, and they just wanted to move forward with the case.

"Okay," Natalie finally said. She made up her mind and put the phone on Eric's desk before tapping play.

She turned, and then moved past Jo, pausing. "I'm so sorry," she said gently, then stood over by the door.

It played… all of it.

Natalie's voice announcing when she'd arrived at Blair's apartment. It was a typical reporters set up. They all heard when she got to the door and went into the apartment.

They listened, the voices were clear. The phone picked up movement well and they could make out who was talking. Jo smiled at Blair giving her 'I'm tired' spiel. She knew the woman had been through a tiring day. She completely sympathized with her.

Next came the part when Amanda came into the apartment. Both Eric and Jo leaned in when the dialogue between her and Blair became apparent. Eric raised a brow at Amanda's obvious cover up about the flowers. Her tone and cadence was that of a liar. He slid his eyes to Jo who stood still, completely focused on the conversation.

It would only be a short moment more before Natalie would feel like leaving the office… the part where she had excused herself from Blair's living room and gone to the balcony. She could feel her heart beating hard as she kept her eyes on Jo. _Please understand._

Blair and Amanda's private conversation had started. At first Jo had to blink at their exchange. She was having trouble understanding why Amanda would want to be alone with Blair.

 _I was thinking we could cuddle a little tonight… just me and you._ Jo bristled at that.

 _…I'd like that_.

 _I aim to please…_

 _…Thank you for the flowers…_

 _…Amanda not here, please—_

Jo hovered her finger over the phone, then tapped off the conversation. She was silent for a long moment; the office was quiet and bleak. No one said a word. She heaved a lungful of air, then inhaled.

"Agent," Eric remained still, almost holding his breath. He looked to Natalie across the room. She was facing the wall. He shifted his eyes back to Jo. "Agent Polniaczek."

Jo held up a hand to stop him from asking any questions. Her eyes were closed, "Don't… I."

Eric saw the pained look on Jo's face before she opened her eyes, then licked her lips. She stiffly faced him. "I'm, uh…" she started to back away, then turned. She did that a little too quickly and grunted as a jab of pain went to her wound. "I'm just going to… uh..." Jo pointed to the door.

Natalie faced her once she got to the door. "Jo, please," blue eyes held tears in them. "I-I didn't know what—"

Jo shook her head. Her lips were tight. "Don't say anything," her voice broke. She made her way out of the office without so much as a glance backward.

Natalie opened her mouth to call after her.

"Let her go," Eric had moved to stand beside her.

"She's my friend," Natalie could feel her lips quivering. She wanted to curl up into a ball and just sleep for days.

"She's a trained agent."

Natalie faced Eric. "You don't understand…you couldn't possibly understand!" her voice rose.

Eric closed his office door. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked across the room. His head was hung. "She's an agent of the secret service, Ms. Green. She's trained to handle these kinds of situations."

"Not _this_ situation!" Natalie was steadfast. She walked up to Eric and waited until he met her gaze. "Jo and Blair have been best friends for a long time. They've been through a lot together. I—"

Natalie looked around, focusing on nothing, realizing. "It's never going to be the same."

* * *

The crisp night air held many secrets. In the darkness one could almost hide, escape, blend in… _disappear_. The Yellow Cab had been parked at the curb for ten minutes, the motor running.

"Where to lady?" the driver raised his gravely voice, looking over the half drawn partition, as he addressed the slumped figure in the back seat. Jo sighed. She felt… _numb_ all over. Her head was bent down as an overbearing longing to go somewhere, anywhere took over... She sniffed, finally looking up and acknowledging the driver.

"Bronx."

The car jerked forward, making its way into traffic. With half lidded eyes, Jo stared out of the window, her head resting on the back seat - bobbing with each turn and bump. Her eyes barely focused as the streetlights and business lights flew by. She finally closed them to get at least a brief reprieve as the car sped up, making sharp turns as it carried her the hell out of Manhattan.

* * *

 **As always, love _all_ the reviews. There have been a lot of questions, and I hope to answer them in the upcoming chapters... please stay tuned!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks to Z for hanging in with me again!**

* * *

"Thanks."

Jo picked up the long necked bottle then tipped it back and winced as the smooth liquid slid down her throat. It was beer number three, and she sat face forward on the bar stool in the dimly lit place that was located in an inconspicuous alley. _Angelo's_ had gone from being a pizzeria to being what it was now: a dive bar. Still, Stefano, the owner, held on to various pieces of the buildings history, including the pinball and Pac-Man machines.

A figure slid onto the stool beside her. Jo barely glanced at the patron before letting out a sigh as the bartender addressed him.

"How many?"

"Two. One coffee, one beer."

Jo took another swig, not exactly acknowledging Eric as he adjusted to the barstool. "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you're alright." He tapped on the bar top.

"Course I'm alright. I'm a trained agent of the United States," Jo said under her breath. She watched as a cup of coffee and a bottle of beer was placed on the counter.

"Thanks… drink up," Eric slid the coffee cup over to her.

"Not my speed tonight."

Eric raised a brow at that, taking a sip from his beer.

Jo set her bottle down. "I didn't ask for a back-up."

"C'mon," Eric looked at her.

"I'm fine," Jo said firmly, taking a sip.

"No you're not."

She slowly turned her head to face him, "I have to be."

Eric sensed a harshness in her attitude. He eyed her. "You need sleep."

Another sip. "Yep."

"Jo."

Jo twisted in her seat. Her eyes were bloodshot. "I don't know anything, anymore, ya' know that?!"

Eric gauged her for a few beats, then nodded, choosing to stay quiet on this one. He dropped his gaze from hers, going back to nursing his beer.

"Agent handbook procedure fifty-four. If the case involves too many unknowns: step back, retrace, solve all unknowns before… lifting off…" Jo swirled her bottle in the air, " _something_ …"

They were quiet for a bit, the sounds of the bar playing out. A low toned blues song played in the background. Eric looked around. The place was, maybe, half full. There was a pool table off to the side, and a little area where a few people were dancing to the music.

He turned his attention back to Jo, who held on to her bottle as she stared forward. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Eric saw her hand tighten around the bottle. "You barely drink socially, Agent," he observed.

Jo sucked in her cheeks at that.

Maybe an occasional glass of wine was usually Jo's style. Eric would've pegged her for a beer drinker when they'd first met. He was quite amused to know of her low threshold for alcohol, hence when they'd all go out for a drink after work, it was Jo that would get one bottle and work on about half of it before leaving.

"I want off the case," Jo's voice was gruff.

"I don't think this is the right time for you to make that decision." Eric saw her roll her eyes at his assessment. "You're drunk, Jo."

"Good," Jo slapped the top of the bar, "best decisions are made while drunk."

Eric watched as Jo downed the last drops of her beer. She turned to face him.

"Fire me."

"No."

Jo nodded, "Kay, then I'll fire myself," she lifted her bottle. "You're fired!"

"Jo, c'mon."

"No. I'm good, really," she toasted him, winking, "you can go." She put the bottle to her lips realizing it was empty, then loudly put it down on the bar top. "I'll stay here."

Eric watched her for a moment. She looked weary. Jo sighed deeply before closing her eyes and putting her elbows on the bar. She threaded both hands through her hair, and left them there, staring at the top of the bar; then scrubbed her face with her palms.

"She's almost twenty-eight."

Eric turned his head. _Finally_. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yep," Jo sighed, "four months older than me."

Eric lifted the bottle to his lips, "didn't know that." Of course he knew that, he'd read her file. A smirk.

"Yep. Lotta' people think I'm older," Jo picked at the label on her bottle. "She hates getting older. Hate's it. Call's thirty a death witch… _witch_ …"

 _Wish._ Eric cracked a side smile. "It's not so bad." He smiled to himself, quite aware of his own thirty-four years.

"You would put a tail on me."

Eric looked up into glaring green eyes. "It's important for me to know where you are at all times," he explained.

"Why'd you follow me?"

It was the opening he had been waiting for. "Because I'm giving you 24 hours to get yourself together, and it starts now." He looked directly at Jo, his voice low. "I thought I'd tell you in person."

Jo stared for a long moment. "I just needed a break," she said resolutely.

Eric hummed; considering her explanation. He placed his elbow on the bar and leaned closer. "You're running," he saw the sharp cut of eyes, "You're running; that's what you do when you're scared."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jo growled.

"I know exactly what I'm talking about," he paused. "This case is just like any other, Agent," he moved close to her ear. "Get your heart out of it!"

"What makes you think my hearts in it?" Jo turned. "Huh?" she hiked an angry brow.

Eric leaned back, shaking his head. "You're clueless."

Jo curled her lip at that. "I'm glad you feel that way, not that I asked you for—"

"Look, none of us thought this was going to be easy!" Eric's voice was harsh; he looked around the bar, lowering his voice. He noted Jo's subtle reaction to his words. "It's what we swore to; and fucking hell, it's a lonely life agent Polniaczek!" he took in a breath, "but it's what we do."

It hit in the gut, and Jo swallowed hard at the truthfulness of it. They both took a moment; grasping the reality of their own situations… the lives they led.

Eric glanced at his bar mate. "C'mon. You gotta' report to Warner in the morning," he reached for his wallet.

"I'm working from the office this week."

"You sure you want to do that?" Eric pulled out his credit card, putting it on the bar top. "I've got this, on me."

Jo nodded her thanks. "Yeah," she said softly. "I think its best."

Eric paused. "Your client just made it clear she's scared and feels unprotected, Agent."

They both held their silence as the bartender took Eric's card, then moved across the bar to cash them out.

"I'm aware of that," Jo purposefully avoided his eyes.

Eric craned his neck toward Jo. "Are you?" he faced her fully. "Because it seems to me you still have a few things to work out, and like I told you, you have 24," he looked down at his watch, "scratch that - 23 hours 53 minutes and fifteen seconds to get your act together."

Jo's lip twitched, "What do you want me to do!?"

"Face what's bothering you. Admit it, deal with it, then move on and do your job!"

Jo swallowed then looked down. "There is nothing to admit."

Eric huffed a disbelieving laugh. "Oh really? That's why I'm sitting here in a bar in the Bronx with you babysitting at almost midnight!"

"You can leave anytime," Jo responded mildly.

It was the dismissive nature of her manner that truly irked Eric… the downright disregard. He knew better… knew _her_ better than she probably did at that moment. She was scared, but he didn't have time for a scared agent to get her shit together. She was trained for this, and it was _time_ to be frank, blunt.

… _honest_.

"You want her."

He saw the back stiffen, it was subtle but marked by rapid blinking and he guessed a lot of restraint. He continued. "You want her and it scares you to death."

A sharp breath. "You're nuts."

"I'm trained in psychological profiling, and I'm spot on." He noticed she wasn't meeting his eyes this time. "I've been doing this for over ten years, Jo. I've had to pull agents off cases for _far_ more than this."

There was a long moment of silence. "Talk to me."

A shrug. "Nothing to talk about," Jo was adamant.

A faint determined expression graced Eric's face. "We're going to talk this out if it takes the next 23 hours to do it." That was met with more silence. "Alright, I'll start. Ever since you became an agent under my supervision, I've listened to you go on and on about her."

Jo started to move off of the barstool. "I don't need this."

Eric stopped her, grabbing her arm. "Yes you do, and you're going to hear it!"

Green eyes bored into his. Jo scowled but propped herself back on the stool.

Eric cleared his throat, "I've seen you try and get over her."

"If you're talking about Terry…"

"I'm talking about the fact that you find a way to work her name into our conversations. After work, at the gym, the bar."

Jo blinked at that.

"It was safe. You felt _safe_ to talk about how much she got on your nerves or how wrong she was about something. You had her all made up in your mind: the rich, socialite, man chaser."

Jo let out a held breath. "That's what she is."

"Is she?" Eric questioned, "It's safe to think she is. Or _was_ ," he added, "now you feel completely confused because what? You find out she has a girlfriend?"

Jo interlaced her fingers, staring at them, "It's not, she's—"

"Amanda is her girlfriend."

It needed to be said, to soak in and Jo shook her head at the thought. "They're j-just, th-they…"

"Blair's gay."

"S-she's… she's…" A deep breath as green eyes slowly tracked to Eric. She looked bewildered.

Eric sympathized a bit. "She is. And that scares you."

Jo shook her head defiantly.

"That's why you ran, because now, you have to face facts… about yourself and about her," he pressed. "It was safe when you thought she was straight. It was easier for you to ignore any signs she gave you. Dismiss them as being all in _your_ head."

"She lied to me! Okay? SHE LIED!"

 _Okay, that was a better reaction_. Eric slowly acknowledged her declaration. "Yeah, yeah she did."

"I can't forgive that!"

Jo clamped down on the swirl of tumultuous feelings that suddenly ran through her. They had been building since she'd been back in the city… since she'd been thrown out of The Warner building… since she'd laid eyes on Blair Warner after not hearing from her for almost a year of trying.

"Why?" Eric felt he had the right to ask. It was a side of Jo she'd kept to herself, well guarded, and tightly controlled. "Why not forgive her, Jo? You wanted her to accept you, and she has."

"Natalie told me she was mad at me for coming out," Jo said. "She wouldn't talk to me!"

 _Ah, now we're getting somewhere_. "Did you ever really find out why, Jo?" he lifted an inquisitive brow. "When you came out to your friends in California, how did she react?"

Jo thought for a second. "I was with Terry and she…." Her thoughts went back to the moments before Blair abruptly left the table, visibly upset.

"Did she seem jealous?"

It was a fair question. Jo shook her head. "N-no… she... w-we… she always has something negative to say about any of my friends."

Typical Jo type explanation. Deflect to self protection. "Could it be possible, you've been missing cues, Jo?" Eric asked.

"I—"

"She's been giving you hints all along," Eric stated. "I've had to be present for a few of them." He sounded a little annoyed.

Jo looked at him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you're a fucking idiot," Eric said pointedly, noting the glower from his top agent.

He grabbed his credit card as the bartender returned it to him with a receipt. Leaning toward Jo, he made sure he could be heard loud and clear.

"Listen, Jo, I want you to own this then move on. That's what you have to do, but I'll be damned if I'm going to watch you feel sorry for yourself because you can't face the fact that the woman you want just _might_ want you back, and you don't know how to handle it."

"She doesn't feel that way about me."

Eric sat back at that. "Are you kidding me? She can't breathe without you." He held an incredulous look on his face. "This whole time you thought it was one sided, didn't you?" He could see the wheels turning now. Jo was contemplative. "Safe. More comfortable to pine for her from afar," he supplied.

"I don't pine for _anybody,_ " Jo said hastily, under her breath.

Eric took in a breath, rubbing his jaw. He decided to ignore that… all of it. "I was there, right after you graduated from college. Remember, when I first met your friends at the house in Peekskill?"

"That was five years ago."

A nod. "A lot has happened since then, Jo. Somewhere during that time and now, Blair came to grips with her sexuality." Eric noticed Jo work her mouth to say something, then decide against it.

"She's always chased men, I don't…"

Eric gazed soberly at her. "Jo. Listen. I don't claim to be an expert on women, but sometimes a person realizes things when something in their life changes," he paused. "All I'm saying is maybe, _maybe_ when you left Peekskill, she realized something." Eric noticed green eyes staring at him. "That she missed you, is a big part of it," he concluded.

"Tootie and Natalie missed me."

Eric blew out a frustrated breath, shaking his head. Jo had always had problems facing personal matters head on. It wasn't a flaw to say the least, but more so a weakness.

"She wanted me to do this!" Jo said loudly.

"Wanted you to do what?" Eric asked.

"Get a job! Get a life! She pushed me to get on with my life, without her!"

"Jo." Eric shook his head.

"She told me she'd always pictured me in a job with a company. She wanted that!" Jo hammered her finger on the bar top for effect.

Eric crossed his arms over his chest. "And you gave it to her."

"Yes!" Jo caught herself, hearing her reaction, then closed her eyes, realizing… "Yes..." She shifted in her seat.

A moment passed between them, then. "I was going to be a teacher. She convinced me it would be a dead-end job. That it would be a waste of my talent."

"And you wanted to please her."

"No!" Jo's eye's snapped to Eric's. He gave nothing away. His stare was steady. He could see through the façade, and she looked down in discomfort, "No…"

"Yeah," Eric watched her. "So you took the job with JTI."

"I—"

"Yeah." Eric, gave her a knowing look, then got up from the barstool. "Alright, look, we've been at this enough. You have some decisions to make, Agent."

Jo followed suit and they headed for the door. "Know this agent. You get your head on, get over to Warner in the morning and do your job."

They stepped out into the night air, it was cool and the traffic noises were loud as cars whisked by.

Jo held her hand up to hail a green taxi that was driving close by. "I'm taking the day off from there." She saw her superior shake his head in disappointment. "I just need _one_ day." Eric remained quiet, not saying anything. "I need it," Jo stated. "I'll explain it to her… so she won't worry," she finished.

A slow nod, then, "Good. And remember, she can't know what you know about her." Eric supplied.

"I know."

The car finally pulled up to the curb and Jo opened the door, then turned, facing Eric. "How do you do it?"

Eric pushed his hands into his pockets. "Do what?"

"Not get involved, not get…." Jo gestured, leaning on the car door a bit.

"I don't." Eric said, "I just... I have _me_ to rely on. That's all I need."

Jo bobbed her head a little at that. She glanced around the street they were on. The streetlights, those that weren't broken, illuminated the corner pub in a beige light. The building was between a Laundromat and a liquor store; and she noted the surrounding buildings were run down, unlike the skyscrapers of Manhattan. "What if you need… more?" she asked, not looking at Eric.

There was a pause, then an intake of breath. "You don't. You just… _don't_." Eric said. "You pick your poison, Agent, because you can't have a civilian life _and_ be an agent, you can't have both. It was hard enough for you and Terry as agents, and look what happened."

 _True_. Pick your life. It went straight to the heart. Jo caught the pained expression on Eric's face before he quickly covered it. He was right. Terry got sent away on assignment and Jo broke it off… both agreeing to just be friends.

He moved closer to her. "You're an agent, a sworn agent. That's what you are. That's what you chose. That's what we _all_ chose," he said sternly, "not her."

The cab horn honked knocking both of them back into the reality of the moment.

"Going back to your apartment?" Eric asked as Jo got into the car, and put the window down.

"Nope." She saw his face change to a concerned look, "got something I gotta' do," she paused, "alone."

Jo tapped on the partition as the car was jerked into drive. She gave Eric a small smile as the window was drawn back up.

Eric watched as the car got tangled into traffic and moved far away. He took in a deep breath, then hailed his own car; watching as it pulled up to the curb.

 _Good luck my friend_.

* * *

"Nat." Tootie tapped on the bathroom door. There was no answer. "Natalie Green!"

"What?!" The muffled voice asked from the other side.

"I need to get in there, would you hurry up?"

There was an 8am curtain call. All front-runners and their understudies were to report for a run through. Tootie was nervous, and she'd been on edge about opening night for the entire week.

The bathroom door finally opened, revealing the robe-clad reporter. Tootie scowled at her as she made her way into the front room. "I told you we should've picked the apartment with two bathrooms," she stated.

"It was five hundred dollars more, remember?" Natalie answered from across the room.

"What were you doing in there all this time anyway?" Tootie said around the toothbrush in her mouth. She had left the door open.

There was a long span of silence, and Tootie spit then wiped her mouth, leaning out of the bathroom she spied her friend sitting on the couch, deeply engrossed in her pad.

Tootie put a hand on her hip. "Natalie," no reply. "Nat?"

"What?!"

Tootie moved closer. She stopped in front of Natalie. "Something's bothering you."

Natalie kept her head down. "I just have a lot of work to do." She typed in a few characters.

 _Okay._ Tootie squinted at that. "There's oatmeal on the stove."

"Again?" Natalie paused her typing.

Tootie moved to grab her purse. "It's my turn to cook breakfast and I chose oatmeal." She checked her bag for her shades and key's then made her way to the door.

"Tootie?"

Tootie stopped then turned. "Yes?"

"Nothing." Natalie put her head down, going back to typing.

Tootie's brow creased with concern. "Okay, now you're worrying me, what is it Natalie?"

She walked back over to the couch and set her purse down on a side table.

"I just… _really_ dread going into work today."

Tootie observed her. "Harris?"

"Harris, my job…" _Blair's_ _expose_.

Natalie looked tired; like she hadn't slept all night. She had come in late the night before, waking Tootie who had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for her. She had been watching a few tutorial films for tips on method acting.

Tootie put a hand on her shoulder. "I know what you mean. I'm having disputes about how to play a few of the scenes I'm in. There's a lot of head-bumping," she smiled.

Natalie patted her hand, giving her a half smile. "Somehow I don't think that's quite what I'm getting at, Tootie."

"Well then tell me what's really bothering you," Tootie inquired. She carefully sat down on the arm of the couch.

Natalie sighed _. May as well_. She had tried to call and text Jo all night, after stopping by a late night diner for a cup of coffee to calm her nerves. Apparently Jo's phone was off _. She doesn't want to talk about it._ Understandable. She knew Jo was all right… somewhere. Usually that's how she handled things… by going into hiding for a while. She looked at Tootie who was waiting for an explanation.

"You ever feel like you know someone, then you find out something about them and realize you really didn't know them at all?"

Tootie took a moment to think about that. "Yes, that's happened to me." She gave Natalie a contemplative look, aware of her friend's hesitant behavior. "You want to give me more to go on here, Nat?"

Natalie fiddled with the sash of her robe, then sighed. "I don't know how to say this Tootie, but I'm tired of keeping it to myself."

Tootie simply raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "It's okay, Natalie," she moved to stand up.

"No, no, you should know," Natalie said adamantly.

Tootie slowly sat back down and waited. She felt like something detrimental was about to tumble out of the reporter's mouth _. Interesting. Okay_. "Is this someone a person we both know?" She felt a hunch coming on.

Natalie answered with a head nod of confirmation, complete with rounded blue eyes.

"Who?"

"I—"

"It's Blair isn't it?" Tootie wore the most noncommittal expression; it almost made Natalie gape with awe.

"How do you do that?"

Tootie snorted softly. "I can't reveal all of my secrets Nat," she said a little slyly, then thought, "does this have something to do with the exposé?"

Natalie paused _. Why lie about it now?_ "Kind of."

That was met with a disbelieving look from the stage actress. Natalie sulked at her expression. "Not really," she admitted.

"Something you've uncovered?" Tootie knew she was digging now, "something personal?" Tootie saw Natalie nod, then put her head down with her eyes closed.

"Oh, then it must be that Blair's gay." Tootie stood up and grabbed her purse, checking her phone for the time.

Natalie's head snapped up, giving her exasperating friend a glare, "Tootie!"

Tootie scoffed at that. "Don't give me that face."

Natalie stood up, her arms failing. "You knew?!"

A small, smug grin. "She told me about a month ago," Tootie replied.

"And you didn't tell me?!" Natalie accused.

"I guess I am quite the actress after all, aren't I?" Tootie 'pretend fluffed' her hair, giving Natalie a leering smile. She halted. "Oh, and you don't give me—"

"Enough credit, I know, Tootie." An eye roll. "She told _me_ during the interview for the expose but didn't go into any detail," Natalie quickly stated.

She was careful not to give anything away. The last thing she needed was Tootie asking more questions. "We kept things cordial. Basic. Safe." _In other words, I want to know what you know Tootie._ She hinted at the actress, who was looking at her innocently.

Natalie waited a few moments, then stared at Tootie, giving her a 'spill it' look. Natalie crossed her arms; her foot tapping.

Tootie gave her a 'not amused' expression in return _. Oh, alright_. "She didn't want anyone to know." She sat her purse down on the coffee table. "She'd just separated from Cliff and she didn't want to explain all of that. Then she told me a few personal things and maybe, after about an hour or so later of crying, wailing and shouting, we devised a plan."

Natalie stared, unblinking. "You wouldn't happen have Blair's actual life confused with a recent script you've read, do you, Tootie?"

Tootie smirked, "Nonsense. Seriously, she came to me because she felt she could trust me."

"She can trust me!" Natalie felt a little stung by that.

"You're a reporter, Natalie." Tootie pointed out.

 _Oh, yeah, that_. "Well… I can see the hesitance…" Natalie smiled guiltily.

"I work in the theater. I'm used to a diverse group of people, so Blair felt it was safe to talk to me." She held up a hand at Natalie's intake of breath – she sensed a question she didn't want to answer was about to be asked. "If you want the full story about Blair's love life, talk to _Blair_ about it."

Natalie cocked her head. "Tootie, you realize this is something that cannot get out. That Blair's gay." _How weird does that sound? Blair Warner is a lesbian._

"Nat?"

"What?"

"You're the reporter. I'm just an actress. Tell me, which one of us would fit the description of getting information out to the public that would be detrimental to Blair?"

"I get it. She's our friend, and I totally support her," Natalie said.

Tootie picked up her purse again, moving toward the door. "You'll have to write around this."

"I know." Natalie ran a hand through her hair, her finger catching on a pencil she'd apparently left in there at some point last night. She plucked it out, throwing it on the couch. "To be honest, I'm actually still in shock."

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I just wanted to honor Blair's wishes. It's a very delicate subject for her right now."

"I understand." Natalie waved a hand. "Just one thing though, Toot." That was met with a questioning brow raise. "How'd you find out?"

Tootie pursed her lips then decidedly walked to the center of the room. "She needed a beard."

Natalie gave her a deadpanned face. "That doesn't sound like Blair, a beard? Is she changing sexes now?"

Tootie laughed, "No, a _beard_ … a date. Someone to make her look, like… she's dating, again – heterosexually."

"Oh." Natalie filed that bit of information away. "Who?"

"John." Tootie checked her phone, noticing a new text message.

"Who's John?"

"A fellow actor." Tootie typed in a response.

There was a bit of silence then. "Tootie don't make me drag it out of you."

"He's Paul's fiancé."

"And?"

"They agreed to let Paul be the beard, since John was all tied up with our production," she glanced at her phone again. "I'm late."

"Hold up Tootie. Why Paul and not the actor?"

Tootie opened the door. "Because John is well known, and he and Paul have decided to keep their relationship quiet. No one really knows Paul. Besides, Paul was in the army so his records have been sealed, so no one would suspect him of being gay."

"It's 2017, who would care?" Natalie pointed out.

Tootie nodded, "It was a mutual decision."

"And they're getting married," Natalie reiterated.

"I know. So does Blair," Tootie checked the time again. "He was all I could come up with on such short notice."

Natalie accepted that. "So what now?"

"I'm going to head over to talk to Blair when I get a break."

Natalie bit the inside of her lip in thought. "You're going to tell her I told you, aren't you?"

"Probably." She looked at her friend's forlorn face. "I'll make it easy on you and tell her I told you awhile ago, and you kept quiet."

"Yeah, you did tell me. Good idea." Natalie was well aware Tootie was still unaware of the circumstances of how she'd actually found out about Blair's sexuality. For all she knew, Blair told her for the expose – in confidence, _of course_.

She watched as Tootie left the apartment, then went back to figuring out how to write an intriguing piece on Blair Warner: _heiress to greatness._

* * *

"Oh God, Ma, why?"

The plastic blinds had been peeled back briskly, letting in the bright light of the new morning. A tray with a cup of coffee and a steaming pot was placed on the coffee table… right in front of the blob on the sofa.

"Sweetheart, I made coffee."

A blanket was peeled back as a green eye squinted then rolled around to view the woman standing by the couch.

Rose Polniaczek was dressed for work: dark dress pants, a white buttoned down cotton shirt and a blazer with the company logo on it. It was her second month on the job as a manager at the midsize diner chain located in midtown Manhattan. Jo was proud of her. She'd been thrilled her mother wanted to finally complete her college degree in business and even sent money to help her get through.

It was the least she could do to help pay her back for working herself to the bone in order to give her the finest education.

She sat up, pushing the rest of the blanket from her still fully clothed form. She grabbed the cup, bringing it to her lips before blowing on it and taking a sip. "Thanks."

Rose smiled. "Better?"

"A little." Jo scowled at the piece of toast her mother placed in front of her. "I can't eat anything right now, Ma."

Rose watched as her daughter struggled to get up from the couch then stretch, in order to fully waken herself. She checked her phone, noticing she had a half hour to get to work. "Jo, what happened last night?"

Jo took another sip of coffee. "I don't…" she set the cup down on the table, "a lot."

"I can see that," Rose touched her arm. "You can talk to me, you know," she said carefully.

Jo glanced at her skeptically. "Can I?"

"Of course," Rose said, a bit uneasily.

Jo faced her. "I need to know something."

Rose laced her hands together. She knew where this was leading. "Okay."

"Do you _see_ me, Ma?"

"Sweetheart—"

"Really see me!" Jo had moved closer, trying the gauge the myriad of emotions she could see darting across her mother's face.

Rose looked up into her daughter's eyes. They were unsure, skeptical… _sad_. "Of course I do," she said gently.

It had been a touchy subject at first. Jo had little trouble with her father the moment she'd told him about her sexuality. He'd been understanding, thoughtful, and it calmed her. Her mother had struggled at first. She had prayed the rosary, gone to confession, and over the past few months, had accepted that she should at least try to understand. It was an ongoing process for her.

"Do you accept me?"

Rose dreaded the question; but she didn't shy away from it. "I-I've been working on that," she paused. "Jo, is that why you showed up here drunk?"

"No... maybe… I don't know anymore," Jo ran her fingertips through disheveled hair.

"Know this," Rose squared her shoulders. "I love you. You are _my_ daughter."

Jo took a breath. "Be honest with me, Ma,'" she said, doubtfully.

Rose sighed. She took a seat on the couch. "Alright. Honestly, I didn't understand your sudden… _change_."

Jo sat down beside her, listening. She noticed her mother wringing her hands together, something she always did when she was anxious.

"I've been reading and trying to understand, but it's a process for me," she faced Jo. "Please understand."

Jo grinned a bit at that. _She's been reading. That's a good start_. "I'm glad, you were reading about…" she gestured, indicating, "the gay stuff," she said.

"Yes. And the one thing I know for sure is you're still my daughter, and I love you very much," Rose repeated.

A moment passed between them. Jo felt like a breakthrough had been established, an understanding between the two of them. "You're trying to understand my sexuality," she said, hopeful.

"Yes, well… give me time," Rose gave her a smile. "Okay?"

"Okay," Jo smiled back. _Breakthrough, indeed_.

"Now, you need to tell me what's going on," Rose watched as Jo suddenly stood and made her way to the kitchen.

"I just… had a bad night is all."

"Had a bad night? Jo, you barely drink socially," Rose had followed her into the kitchen.

"It's something I can't talk about right now, you'll have to trust me," Jo opened the refrigerator door.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest and studied her daughter as she picked an apple out of the bin, only to make a face and put it back. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that you're now working with Blair?"

Jo swung around, rather surprised. "How'd you—?"

"Your father. Ran into him at the diner. He came in for lunch last week," Rose stifled a giggle at the aggravated look on Jo's face.

Jo twisted her lips a bit. _Never said a word_. "I'm working on a project with JTI with their outreach program over there," she got out.

"Seeing her every day," Rose observed quite furtively.

Jo hiked a brow at that. "Yeah. Well, we have to," a shrug.

"I see."

Jo didn't like the sound of that… the incredulous tone Rose had always displayed when she wasn't quite so convinced.

"It's mandatory for the project, Ma."

Rose held up a hand. "I never said it wasn't."

Jo watched her. _She's thinking something_. "What, Ma?"

Rose thought of the best way to say it. "I'm just surprised you two haven't killed each other by now." She saw the eye roll as Jo moved back into the living room. "I figured that's what would've driven you to drink."

Rose slowly walked closer to Jo. She waited. Knowing her daughter, first, there'd be a moment of denial…

"No, that's not it, Ma."

Then a period of realization…

"She's the most frustrating woman I've ever had to work with."

And lastly, an emotional plea for help…

"God, I don't want to go into work this week, anything… Ma' back me up, say I'm sick or something."

Rose shook her head negatively. She sensed the severity of Jo's situation was more than she'd be willing to deal with at the moment. Truth be told, she was waiting for this day to come. She didn't really know how she would handle it… not sure _who_ would be on the receiving end of it, but not exactly surprised nonetheless.

"Sweetheart."

Jo's shoulders slumped as she sat on the couch. "Yeah?" She felt the couch sink as her mother sat next to her, putting an arm around her. She took in a breath then blew it out.

"I don't know what you've been through. What you've faced; and I don't fully understand the path you're on now, but one thing I do know is _you_. My daughter. And right now? In this moment of your life, I feel the need more strongly than ever to tell you…"

Jo heard the slight crack in her voice. Her mother had always given her the best insight of her intuition. It grounded her, made her feel whole. She looked into soft green eyes. "What, Ma?"

Rose squeezed Jo's shoulders then softly moved the bangs from her face; smiling. "Follow your heart."

* * *

The Century Building, downtown Manhattan, and home of _The Café_ : a favorite breakfast spot for the Warner family. It was right across the street from Warner headquarters, so quite convenient as well.

Blair checked her watch as she entered the wide-open and airy atrium. She rounded the corner toward the eating area. The porcelain floors echoed her fast footsteps as she spied her father sitting at his usual table; his face hidden behind the morning _Times_.

David bit into a piece of toast, hearing his daughter pull up a chair. "You're late," he said without looking up from his paper.

"I had something I needed to do," Blair glanced at the menu out of sheer habit, then put it down.

David looked up, "I already ordered for you. Your regular right?"

"Fine," Blair sighed, then thought better of it. "I could just take a coffee."

David heard the nervous tenor in her voice. "What's the matter?"

"Have you heard from Jo?"

"Jo? No, why?" David took a sip of orange juice, fluffing out his paper.

"I haven't either. Neither has anyone I've talked to… Tootie, Natalie."

"I'm sure there's a good explanation," David went back to reading.

Blair glared at the back of his _Times_ , noting his offhanded dismissal. "She left the office yesterday, I texted her to see if she made it home," she said.

"Did she?"

"She never texted me back," Blair announced. "Security hasn't reported anything suspicious, so I assume she's alright," Blair admitted. Her father hadn't said a word to that. She frowned. "Daddy?"

"Maybe her phone's off," David said.

"She wouldn't do that, deliberately have me worry. No, something's not right," Blair glanced at her watch. "God, I have a meeting."

"What about breakfast?" David looked from around the paper, finally folding it and putting it on the table.

Blair got up from her seat, pushing it back under the table. "I'm just going to grab some coffee."

David sat back, watching the nervous fiddling she always did with the strap of her briefcase, as she threw it on her shoulder. She started to move toward the coffee bar on her way out of the building. "Blair?" David called after her.

Blair turned around. "Yes?"

"She's fine."

It was a stern look. The familiar expression David always gave Blair when he was quite sure of himself. Only this time she didn't want to be comforted by his _word_. She wanted proof of Jo's whereabouts. She nodded to him; accepting his reassurance, for now. She made her way to the coffee bar, the attending barista having already made a cup for her – hot and ready to go. She thanked him, tipped him, then diligently made her way out of the building and toward Warner Textiles headquarters.

* * *

"Can I come in?" Eric had cracked the door of the small office open a little.

Jo was busy reading a report on her monitor, and didn't bother looking up. "Couldn't stop you if I tried."

Eric took a seat on the edge of her desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "How'd it go last night?"

"It went."

A nod, then a quiet observation. "You look like hell."

That got a small smile. "Thanks," Jo opened a new screen.

"You're welcome." Eric took in the small space Jo called her home away from home. Her office. She'd been in the room for all of two weeks, yet had managed to incorporate a few personal accessories to decorate the space: a signed baseball from Derek Jeter sat on her desk, a couple of Yankees poster's, and a motor bike calendar where on the wall behind her. "In house work day?"

"Working on some personal items."

"What about the capstone over at Warner?" Eric asked.

Jo looked up at him. "I'm taking an office day, I told you."

Eric agreed. "Did you inform Ms. Warner?" he asked.

"Not yet."

 _C'mon Jo, pull yourself together_. "Jo." That was met with silence. "Are you handling this?" Eric asked.

Jo's fingers paused over the keyboard, "I'm…" she sighed inwardly, "handling it. I'm taking my time. In the meantime, I'm going to finish this case."

Eric stood. "This case ends for us when we are no longer necessary, Agent," he looked at her.

"I know that," Jo said a little annoyed. She went back to reading. "I've put in for another assignment." She glanced up and saw the surprised widening of her superior's eyes. "Effective immediately," she added quickly; then. "Overseas."

It was said so quietly, Eric had almost asked her to repeat it. _Overseas? Oh, Jo… distance doesn't cure all things, my friend. Time does_. He waited for her to finish.

"I need this," she finally breathed. It was hard to concentrate now and Jo stared at the computer screen then leaned back in her chair. A slightly desolate look graced her features.

Eric moved to the door, then glanced at the agent before exiting. "Okay."

* * *

"So how do you suggest we go about creating events for revenue recognition?"

Emily glanced up at Blair after not getting an answer for several moments. They had been preparing their presentation to the board for the Asian Division. "Blair?"

Blair's head snapped up. "Yes?" She had been absentmindedly moving through the contents of the report; slumped in her office chair, with a fist propped under her chin.

"Do we need to take a break?" Emily had been trying to communicate with the distracted woman for the past hour. She closed her pad.

Blair sat up a little. "I'm sorry, absolutely not," Blair clicked on a screen. "Where were we?"

Emily watched her. Blair was totally unfocused today. "Revenue streams," she huffed a perturbed breath.

The cursor moved to the bottom of the screen. "Right, um…" a click, "here."

"In the south region?" Emily shifted in her chair.

"Oh…" Blair moved the cursor then tapped it. "Northern region, of course," she smiled apologetically.

"I think we should take a break." Emily stood up.

"I'm fine, let's keep going," Blair highlighted the northern region numbers.

Emily eyed her, then turned to head for the door. "Well, _I_ need a break." She gave Blair a final look before leaving the room.

Blair sighed. _I need a break_. She noticed her incoming email had pinged, and she clicked on the inbox seeing a message from _Jo Polniaczek_. She sat up quickly, then clicked it.

 ** _Ms. Warner,_**

 ** _As denoted per our contract with the Warner Textiles Corporation, outreach program – I am exercising an office day to work on the capstone. Each analyst is required to put in at least four days per month at regional headquarters (JTI, New York), in order to fulfill the program's specifications._**

 ** _I, Jo Polniaczek, have determined today as an in-house office workday._**

 ** _If you have any further questions, please contact me via my given email address._**

 ** _Joanna M. Polniaczek, JTI, HR Department_**

"Well at least I know you're alive," Blair hit the reply button and typed a response:

 ** _Ms. Polniaczek,_**

 ** _Was there something wrong with your phone last night? I don't like worrying when it's unnecessary. A simple, 'I made it home safely' would have sufficed; instead, I'm without a good night's rest._**

 ** _I hope to see you tomorrow morning bright and early._**

 ** _Blair_**

"Send," she told the voice recognition on her computer.

"Message sent," the computer complied.

Blair sat back then drummed her fingers for a second. _What is up with the formalities all of a sudden?_

"Blair?"

Blair watched as her mother pushed her way through the door and entered the office. She was, of course, dressed to the nines – though the splash of fur she often carried around was a bit much… especially for summer.

"Hello, Mother."

Monica's eyes were roaming all over the office, taking in the lack of décor, dull walls, and the monstrosity of a couch Russell had insisted on keeping. She made a face. "Darling, when on earth are you going to get a secretary?"

"I'm still interviewing… for an executive assistant," Blair enunciated.

Monica smirked at that. "Whatever, dear." She stood in front of Blair, then moved her finger along the surface of the desk. It was at least dusted, she mused, though the rest of the office probably needed a thorough going over.

Blair remained quiet, then put on a friendly face she didn't really feel. "What brings you here?"

"Well, dear, first I wanted to see what Paul had done with the office." Monica said that a bit flatly, already having made known her assessment.

They had called a truce on discussing any subsequent suitors for Blair at the moment – at Blair's request; and Monica had agreed to hold her opinions and her tongue on the matter, for her daughter's sake… _for now_.

"He hasn't been able to schedule me in, yet," Blair picked up a few papers.

"Oh, well…" Monica moved to sit in the visitor's chair facing the large desk. She looked at her daughter expectantly.

"Mother, I have a lot of work to do," Blair started looking over several documents.

Monica drew her fingers through the mink fur on her shoulder. "Well, you know I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't something important," she smiled.

It was the way she smiled. Blair knew the slight hike of an eyebrow, the widening eyes, then the playful twist of lips - meant her mother was about to tell her something she found exciting. Blair dropped the papers then leaned back in her chair, crossing her fingers together.

"I'll bite."

That was all she needed. Monica excitedly scooted to the edge of the chair. "The festival in St. Tropez," she said animatedly, clapping her hands together. "Oh, darling - shopping, art, jazz! Darlene and George are going. Bailey's taking off from school. I'm pulling her out for three weeks with a tutor. Now I just need you to consider."

Monica held her hands together in a hopeful embrace, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Well?"

Blair drew in a breath, thinking, then shrugged, "I wish I could go."

Monica's face fell then she stood, moving to stand beside her daughter. "Blair, you're the president, make it happen, this is St. Tropez, France we're talking about," she said flippantly.

Blair watched as her mother put a defensive hand on her hip. "It's not that simple."

A frown. "Why not?" Monica gave her a tart look. "Darling you need to take a break." She bent over and lifted Blair's chin a little, "you're starting to show the signs," she inspected.

Blair shook her head from the hold. "Mother, I can't," she said strictly.

Monica straighten, pretty sure of herself. "You'll change your mind."

Blair sighed. She knew her mother wouldn't leave her alone about it. "I'll see what I can do, that's all I can say right now," she offered, before picking up a pen.

Monica smirked at that. She didn't move, staring at Blair, who stopped her motions and looked at her questioningly. _I know that look_. "Was there something else?"

"There's a sale at Tiffany's."

 _The magic words_. Words that furtively changed the blood chemistry of the average Warner woman. Blair was far from immune. "How long is it on?" she asked, shamefully.

Monica smiled tightly. "This weekend only." She was surprised Blair hadn't known about it. She was working too hard. She had a plan for their outing. "We'll start the day with brunch at Lucien, then—"

"Incoming," the loud voice from Blair's computer interrupted.

Monica sputtered to a stop then watched as Blair clicked on her screen. "Blair?"

Blair held up a finger. _One moment_. "Open."

 ** _Ms. Warner,_**

 ** _I have all the information, software and equipment I need to carry out my job here at JTI for most of the week. That being said, I will be reporting to you tomorrow, in which I will schedule a two hour session consisting of questions for the capstone, then job site work to complete for the day. The hours for this will be determined at that time, in which you will be informed beforehand._**

 ** _Joanna M. Polniaczek, JTI HR, Department_**

"Blair did you hear me?" Monica's eyes darted from the computer to her daughter.

"In a moment, Mother." Blair typed her reply, then hit "send."

The computer buffered for a few seconds, "Message sent."

 ** _Jo,_**

 ** _Is there a reason why I can't reach you on your cell phone? Is it even on?_**

 ** _Also, while I appreciate your formal prose, I feel it unnecessary considering we know each other quite well and can drop the formalities._**

 ** _If you're trying to tell me you are cutting back on your hours here, then fine. I appreciate the heads-up._**

 ** _I would also appreciate a phone call, formal or regular._**

 ** _Blair Warner, WTC President, Extraordinaire_**

"Now, where were we?" Blair looked up, giving her mother her full attention.

"The sale dear. This Saturday... our plans?"

 _Ah, yes_. Blair twisted back and forth in her chair. "Mm. You said brunch at Lucien?"

Monica's eyes lit up. "Yes! Oh, darling then the afternoon to devote to Tiffany's and of course the whole row if you want," she finished. They usually made a day of it, hitting all of the stores down the strip.

Blair smiled brightly. "Let's make a day of it," she said confidently. She was certain security would be tight for their adventure, so no worries there.

"Really?" Monica stood.

"Absolutely," Blair felt poised. "I feel like a little retail therapy, especially after this week."

"Oh, darling, I'm so glad you're coming!" Monica clapped her hands together.

"Who else is going with us?" Blair leaned back in her chair.

"Aunt Gloria and Darlene… you know our regular group," Monica said.

Blair nodded, "Fine."

Monica gave her a smile. "Well dear, I'm off," she turned, "I have a full schedule today. Trustee meeting then the hairdresser. It will take me all day, believe me."

She had reached the door, then glanced over her shoulder to see Blair engrossed in her computer again.

"Incoming," it announced.

Monica rolled her eyes at that. "Oh, for heaven's…"

Blair sighed, "read."

 ** _Ms. Warner,_**

 ** _The construct in which I chose to inform you of the business between our companies is necessary for communication to be conducted and clarified in a professional manner. As far as our knowing each other, well, that is neither here nor there._**

 ** _I will be busy for the rest of the day and not taking any calls. If you need to communicate with me, please honor the channel I have available and have requested._**

 ** _Joanna M. Polniazeck, JTI, HR department_**

"I'm leaving." Monica lingered in the doorframe. She got no answer from her engrossed daughter. "Call me before Saturday, darling."

Blair glanced up briefly, waving a hand. "I will. Bye Mother."

Monica eyed her, then sniffed, closing the door behind her.

Blair poised her hands over the keyboard. _What the hell is going on?_ She breathed, thinking of a sharp retort for the indigent, grating… the sheer _gall_ of—

"Blair?"

Brown eyes snapped up. "Hi, Daddy." She hadn't heard him come in, and she quickly changed her demeanor.

"I just saw Monica," David made his way over to her.

"Play date for this weekend," a smile.

David grinned knowingly, and not at all surprised. "Ah, well…" He looked back out into the lobby. "Where's Jo?"

"She's working at the office today," Blair barely hid a smirk at that.

"Oh. I guess you finally contacted her?" David sat down on the edge of the desk.

Blair nodded, not wanting to get into the brief, yet _cold,_ contact she'd been making with Jo. She cleared her throat. "Anything new with the case?"

David shook his head. "Nothing so far."

"No threats?"

"No, thankfully. I just came over to check up on you."

Blair sighed. "I'm doing just great."

David nodded then looked around the desk. He laughed a little to himself at Blair's neat piles of paper. _Once a lawyer..._ It was the need to keep tangible evidence that kept her from using the regular computer filing system, even for bids and proposals. Proof on paper – she had said. And she had the nerve to make fun of him for reading the _Times_ every morning.

"You didn't eat any breakfast and you seemed upset this morning," he pointed out.

"I'm fine," Blair gave him a somber look, then scooted her seat under her desk. She focused on her computer screen. She could see him judging her from her peripheral vision. "Really," she said with finality.

David let a few beats go by then clasped his hands together. "Alright. Look, I need you to talk to Robert."

"Where is he?"

"At his apartment, mostly. He came in yesterday for a few hours."

Blair looked up at her father. "It's hard to catch him when he does that."

"Try," David was serious, "then play nice with him. It's been a rough couple of weeks. He's trying to pick up and carry on with his life."

They had all been trying to make sense of the past couple of weeks: the new revelations about the case, Robert's innocence in the matter. It was something they'd all agreed to let him have his space… to finally grieve the loss of his father.

"I will, don't worry," Blair was adamant about that. Family first. She would try and smooth over things with her cousin for the sake of the company… for the sake of the family.

"Good, thanks."

David smiled at Blair then made his way out of the office almost bumping into Emily. She had moved her coffee cup just in time.

"Oh, hi David."

"Emily," he grabbed her arm to steady her. "Sorry about that," he apologized.

"We were just going over the numbers for the new proposal," Emily switched her cup to her other hand, gesturing toward Blair. "Blair, are we all set to continue?" she asked from across the office.

"I'm ready," she said. "Daddy, we'll do dinner before the week is out, I promise," she stated.

"Alright," he gave the two of them a smile. He watched as Emily took her seat in front of Blair's desk. "Have a good day."

"You too," the two women said in unison.

David closed Blair's office door, then made his way around the corner to the executive elevators. He knew about their proposal, though he hadn't pressed Blair to inform him about the details. He figured she'd reveal all when they were ready; especially when they were ready to face the board of directors.

* * *

"Hey."

Agent Mendoza had taken advantage of Jo's open door and made his way over to her with a hand full of documents.

"Hey," Jo was busy typing up the final specs for the capstone. "What's up?"

"Just got this from analytics," Mendoza handed her the top few papers.

"What is it?"

"You tell me."

Jo read the top few lines. They were mostly numbers. Accounts. It was from Marketing, the division Mendoza was assigned to. He had been working directly with Barry Winstead on a daily basis.

"Looks like Winstead's been keeping his records balanced so?" She started to hand the papers back to him.

"You don't think it's a little funny, this guy's been keeping up with large sums of money?" Mendoza asked.

"What large sums?" Jo pulled the papers back, glancing over them again. She shrugged. "Marketing gets a budget, right?"

The agent nodded. "They all do," he waited.

Jo handed him back the papers. "You cleared theirs with operations already. What's your point?"

"My point is - _duplicates_." Mendoza handed them right back to Jo. Who gave him a puzzled look then snatched them at his revelation.

"What duplicates?" She looked at the numbers again.

"See the dates?" Mendoza pointed to the top right hand corner of each transaction. "They're doubled. Which means he duplicated the amount operations gave him then put the other part of the money somewhere else."

 _Double dated, well I'll be damned._ "He was able to get twice the amount of funds from operations," Jo scanned the document more closely.

"Possibly."

"How?"

"That has yet to be determined," Mendoza scratched his head. "My hunch is he already had the money. He just hid it by gradually allocating it to the marketing budget, recently; which is how I eventually caught it."

"Russell was head of operations for a lot of this, so _he_ approved this?"

"Looks like it."

"But why? I mean. It would explain why he had his hard drive replaced every month. I just happened to catch the last few numbers from the overseas account."

"Looks like that's where the money had been coming from that Winstead's hiding. You just saw last month's before he could hide it," Mendoza said.

"The one hundred eighty mil…" Jo tapped on her desktop.

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Jo. We don't know exactly how much he's been hiding as of today."

"I'm willing to bet _he_ snatched the one eighty mil when he realized someone was on to him," Jo surmised.

Mendoza thought for a moment. "Looks like a possibility. I'm guessing Russell and Barry had a system going. That is, until Russell's death."

"Blair's still approving the budget for marketing, though," Jo acknowledged. "It seems he's getting a lot of funds past her."

Who knew how long Winstead and Russell Warner had this whole racket going. The question was why? Jo exhaled. This was going to be a tough one to figure out. Either way she didn't want Blair to find out, or to be caught up in the middle of it.

"My question is: where is he hiding everything?" Mendoza turned to leave. "I'll get on that then let you know what I find out."

"Sure, sure…" Jo started to feel a little weary about the whole thing. They were getting closer, which meant imminent danger was a possibility. "Hey, Norm?" she saw him turn and lift a brow. "I, uh… you remember that case you worked on in Chicago?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

The Chicago case was four years ago. It was a sore spot for him. The six foot four, dark haired agent had gotten personally involved investigating a crime family planning to take out one of the higher officials of the state. He had taken a liking to the official's daughter, who returned the sentiment. They'd fallen in love, and unbeknownst to her, Norm Mendoza was only there to protect her father then move on to the next case. When the case was over he was ready to quit; but was quickly reminded of his duty. He took two weeks off just to gather himself together. It was difficult for him but he had decided he couldn't afford to let something like that happen again.

"How'd you…" Jo faded a bit, knowing he knew what she was referring to.

"Get over it?" Mendoza let out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah."

"You don't. You deal, you adjust, then you move on."

Jo stared at him. _Sounds vaguely familiar_.

Agent Mendoza moved to leave, his steps were soft, thoughtful. He didn't normally, voluntarily, try to think about his time in Chicago - the case. He much more tried to squash anything that reminded him of it… of _her_.

He turned around. His face was grim, but Jo could tell he was still quite affected. "You never really forget."

Jo absorbed that, and for just a few seconds, they shared an impactful realization. Of their duty, their responsibilities… their chosen fate.

Mendoza offered a quiet, sad smile. "No more walks on the beach," he said hoarsely. "See ya," he said softly, then left Jo's office.

Jo's eyes were half lidded. _Yeah… I get that._

* * *

Partly cloudy, with just a hint of a breeze. Eighty five degrees, and humid. So much for the forecast of an almost perfect day in Manhattan; especially when trapped inside four walls all day. Eric had been standing in front of his office window for ten minutes. The light on his desk monitor flashed indicating an agent or informant was trying to contact him. He moved to click his computer screen.

It was Natalie Green. _Wondering when I'd finally hear back from you._

He turned her on speaker. "Ms. Green."

"Hi. I was wondering when I could come by and pick up my phone," her tone was clipped.

They hadn't exactly left in good spirits the night before. There was no blame thrown, just a lot of confusion and anger misdirected. Natalie had told him, rather politely, to go to hell before she'd stormed out of his office. That was par for the course, Eric had concluded. He'd heard much worse through the years.

"Anytime, we'll have it wiped and ready for you," he informed.

The infamous phone. Seemed like the device was getting everyone that touched it into trouble of some sort, recently. He opened his desk drawer to take it out.

"Great, thanks, I'll be by shortly," Natalie hung up.

Eric looked at the phone. He had put it in his desk drawer right after Natalie had left his office last night - not giving it a second thought... especially after Jo had reacted so acutely to the new information they'd received. He turned it on, then went to the screen that held the conversation Natalie had recorded. It still had quite a few minutes left.

Eric's brow creased. _Should've finished this_. It wasn't like him, he admitted, not to follow through with procedure, which meant allowing the recording to finish. They'd all figured they'd heard enough, especially after the revelation Blair had unknowingly admitted to them.

Eric sat, and got comfortable in his chair. He put the phone on his desk and turned up the volume, then hit play.

The recording picked up right after Blair had excused herself to talk to Natalie on the balcony... which left Amanda alone in the living room.

 _Hi…_

 _…No, she's not in the room._

 _Bad news..._

 _You know that friend of Blair's? She's a fucking reporter, for the Times!_

 _…Yeah…_

 _I don't know, but she could start digging in the wrong places._

 _… No, no, don't do that. We don't want her getting suspicious._

 _… Alright, I'll keep her off of our tail, don't worry. You don't have to resort to what you did to her other friend._

 _… Yeah, I know but that could have been a fatal accident – that's all this one needs is a reason to investigate further._

 _Yeah… I'll handle it. Bye._

Eric sat up, then played the sequence again.

"Shit!"

He fast forwarded up to when Blair and Natalie re-entered the living room, noting Amanda had already left the room to go to the bathroom.

 _…and Natalie_

 _Yes?_

 _Next time call…_

He stopped the recording. _Holy_ f _uck!_ Eric wanted to kick himself for getting too personally involved with an agent and letting valuable information get by him.

He'd played nursemaid at the bar last night, and though he'd done it before, he felt it necessary when it came to Jo. Truth was, he wanted Jo to succeed as his lead agent and eventually become a supervisor. She had great potential to be a leader. Now, he wasn't so sure.

"Almost a whole day wasted." _Not to mention the potential danger. "_ I can't let this happen again."

Eric rewound the recording back to where he'd started, then clicked on all three agents listening devices. "Get in here now!"

It only took three minutes before agent Polniaczek, Mendoza and Summers were all facing their supervisor.

Eric eyed them.

"Listen to this!" he tapped the play button, then leaned back in his chair gauging the reactions of his team. He tapped it off when it was done, noting the brief silence, save an exasperated breath or two.

"This is not good," Agent Summers drew a hand through blonde hair.

"So what exactly do we have here?" Mendoza asked.

"Who the hell was she talking to?" Jo's face was red with frustration.

Eric thought for a second. "I get the feeling once we find out, the missing pieces will start falling into place."

Mendoza looked down, realizing in his haste he'd carried in the papers he was working on with him. "You may want to look at this," he handed them to Eric.

"Marketing report… Winstead's numbers?" Eric flipped through them.

"Look closer."

Eric examined the header's. "Huh, duplicated. That's a lot of money." He looked at Mendoza. "Where to?"

"Don't know, but read the last page," he leaned over and pointed to the paper. "I just got those back from anaylitics. Those are account numbers I've never seen before."

Agent Mendoza watched as Eric scanned the sheet. He was just in the process of working on finding out _whose_ account numbers they belonged to when he'd been called into the office.

Eric slowly peeked up at him. "These are not Warner accounts."

Mendoza nodded his head. "He's been filtering money somewhere else it looks like."

Eric grimaced then handed the papers back. "We need verification, Agent, not speculation. Find out whose account these numbers belong to."

Eric stood and addressed all three agents. The new information they had now needed attention and to be moved on fast.

"Barry Winstead has made duplicate dates on accounts, which usually means he had in his possession, enough money to do so, folks. As we know, it's an old trick used by embezzlers to hide money that's already been allocated."

Jo crossed her arms over her chest. "I think he snatched the one eighty mil, then tried to hide it," she said bluntly.

Eric gazed at Jo. He pursed his lips a bit. "We have to prove that, Agent. Don't get me wrong, I feel like he's our guy but—"

"Proof? I'll get proof," the resentment was rolling off of Jo in waves. Eric could tell she was keeping a professional restraint.

"No hunches, Agent Polniaczek." It had to be said. Emotional hunting was forbidden. He wanted her to focus on the facts.

"Not a hunch, just a lead," she said, overtly calm.

"To?" Eric was skeptical.

"Ms. Palmero," Jo's eyes were twinkling fervently and Eric knew what that meant. He also knew she was hungry to find anything on the woman. _I'll eat this if I'm wrong_. It could be a good thing for an agent to be _this_ determined... though with the recently developed circumstances, he wasn't so sure in Jo's case.

Eric ignored her for the moment, turning his attention to Agent Summers. "What do we know about Barry Winstead, other than preliminary stuff?"

"You want me to mine Winstead?" she asked.

Eric nodded, "I need that information like yesterday, Agent," he pointed at her. "I want to know the good and the bad about him. Everything. His hopes, dreams, failures."

"What about Palmero?" Agent Summers asked, her eyes sliding over to Jo.

"Leave her to me," came the low toned reply. All three sets of eyes were now on Jo.

"Jo," Eric shook his head.

"I can handle this," she was determined. "Don't worry," she hiked her head toward agent Mendoza. "Mendoza can be my backup."

Agent Mendoza gave her a nod, which earned him a small smile in return. She faced Eric, confidently. "I have a plan."

 _A plan_. How many times had he heard that from his field agents... sometimes they worked; _sometimes_... he didn't have time to worry about the details. Given Jo's competence, he'd have to trust her. He looked over at his team. They seemed eager, ready. What more could he hope for?

"Okay. Let's go, I want full reports," Eric watched as Summers and Mendoza left his office.

"Jo, hold up."

Jo braced herself, then faced him. "I'm not going to do anything irrational."

Eric took a few moments to consider the task at hand and Jo's emotional stability to successfully see it through to fruition. She had always worked well under pressure. Although, present circumstances involved a variable factor that was unpredictable; and for Jo – volatile: _Blair Warner_.

"I know that," he said. "I trust you," he reiterated with more conviction. "Just remember to keep it strictly professional."

Jo grabbed the doorknob then cracked a side grin, her demeanor resolute.

"Oh, I intend to," she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Blair had instructed Hamilton to wait for her outside of the apartment building. It was located three blocks from Warner headquarters. Robert had bought the two-bedroom apartment right after college graduation. And now, he liked to be close to headquarters whenever he was in town; it just seemed logical.

She'd signed in at the front desk, then took the elevator up to the 30th floor. The complex was fancy, ritzy, though not as ritzy as her own building. Still, the Warner's had always insisted on high profile living accommodations. Robert was no exception.

She arrived at his door, only to ring the bell several times. The concierge had announced her arrival downstairs to no avail, and she would've concluded Robert not being there if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't bothered to leave his apartment since yesterday.

She was almost ready to give up when the door cracked open. A brown eye recognized her. then She heard a sigh as the door widened a little more.

"Wow, you look like hell."

She had meant it in jest, but saw the 'not amused' expression of her cousin - he was still in his nightwear: shorts and a tee shirt. He hadn't shaved in a while, judging from his five o'clock shadow. His hair was disheveled and out of order.

"What do you want?" Robert's eyes were red around the rims.

"I need to talk to you."

Robert glared at her for a moment, then opened the door for her to come through. "Make it quick, I have a date."

That was a lie. Blair glanced around the apartment. It was unkempt; a mess. There were newspapers and clothes strewn around the floor. The couch had old take out food in boxes sitting on it and the side tables were littered with wine glasses, beer bottles and half-eaten sandwiches. This wasn't like Robert. He was normally a neat freak.

"Jesus, open a window!" The stench from it all hit Blair as she moved to raise up the sash in the living room.

Robert ignored her displeasure at him.

"What's up?" he asked as he plopped down on the couch, knocking a pizza box to the floor. Several, old and dried-up half eaten slices fell out of the box.

Blair chose to ignore that as she moved aside a few clothes to sit on the couch. Robert sat slumped down in the back cushions. He had propped a foot up on the coffee table.

"How are you doing, Robert?"

Robert turned his head regarding her. "How does it look to you?!" he'd said harshly. His head hurt and he closed his eyes, wiping his brow, then mouth. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Blair felt quite a bit of empathy for him.

"I feel like I do," Robert felt remorseful. "I don't know. It's just been a rough couple of weeks," he admitted.

Blair shook her head. "You have no idea."

She sounded serious, and Robert looked at her.

"I know. You're right. I don't."

He had purposefully stayed out of the loop. The new information about his father, the money, the case - was all he could process for the time being. "Why are you here, Blair?" His voice sounded dry and fried.

Blair gave her cousin a sincere expression. "I needed to see how you were doing." That was met with an incredulous, unbelieving stare.

Robert smirked at her. "And now the real reason."

Blair let out a soft laugh. "You know me too well."

"I know, I skipped the meeting," Robert confessed.

"I covered for you. They understood," Blair informed him.

"Good, good," Robert scratched the side of his rough face, as he looked at Blair. "Thank you," he gave her a weak smile.

"No problem," she smiled back.

Robert let out a long shaky breath. He ran his hands through his disorderly hair, making it even more unruly. "I'm going to take a few days off. Go up to Hartford to see Mother."

"That sounds like a good idea," Blair said softly.

Isabella Warner had kept her last name. Even after the divorce from Russell, three years ago. She'd known about his business dealings, his backroom negotiating - though not the details, but it was enough to drive them apart. She'd kept in touch with him, nonetheless. They'd always remained friends.

Robert bent his head down, his mouth downturned.

"She misses him," he said, his voice cracking.

Blair could see him trying to hold himself together as he wrapped his arms around himself, stroking his shoulders as he rocked slightly. He peeked at Blair, his eyes forming tears that fell down his cheeks. "I do, too."

Robert's body shook as the overwhelming sorrow engulfed him and he sobbed openly. Blair moved to enclose her arms around him, holding him as they sat there, letting the moment wash over them; her own tears falling down her cheeks. _Oh, Robert…_

* * *

They had gone over the plan on the way there in the taxi, which was to get into Palmero's office: extract the information from her hard drive, then get out.

Simple.

Jo had even put on her crispest suit for the occasion: navy blue with a white dress shirt, completed by footwear with just a hint of heel – just enough to look professional. Business-like. Her hair was down, and she had even dabbed on a bit of make-up, which served to accentuate her green eyes.

"Ready?" She addressed agent Mendoza, who gave her a smirk. He was in disguise: a brunette wig that had long hair, and a thick mustache… he was supposed to look hip.

Jo smiled at him then playfully brushed off his tie-dye shirt. "Just checkin' out some art, dude," she laughed.

"The things I do for you," he said as they approached the front doors of the Villa Manzi Gallery.

"Here goes," Jo jerked a door open; while agent Mendoza hung back a bit, pretending to smoke a cigarette. They didn't want it to look like they were together.

Jo came up to the front desk of the lobby. The lady attending watched her approach with a wide plastered-on smile. _Customer service at its finest._ "Hello," Jo put on a fake face of her own.

"Welcome to The Villa Manzi Gallery, May I help you?" came the overly friendly reply.

"Yes. I'm here to see Ms. Palmero," Jo said.

"Do you have an appointment?" the lady queried as she moved to retrieve her appointment book.

"No. But I'm sure she'll see me. It's very important," Jo kept her face stretched in a grin, as she noticed the lady's slip a bit.

"I'll just give her a quick call," she picked up the phone and hit a button. "Your name is?"

"Jo Polniaczek," Jo said as she tugged at her jacket sleeves.

The woman paused, trying out the last name in her mind before nodding.

"Hi. A Miss Jo Pol-nia-czek, is here to see you. She said it's an important matter," she said, uncertain if she'd said the last name correctly, only to be relieved when Jo nodded her head positively. She listened for a second, then, "I see…alright, thank you."

Jo hiked a brow. "Problem?"

"Actually no. She said for you to please come to her office," she looked at Jo skeptically, then pointed. "Down the hall and take a right. Her door is the first one."

Jo gave the woman an impish grin as she made her way down the hall. She took a peek back over her shoulder right before turning to see Mendoza enter the building. _This should be easy_. If there was one thing Agent Mendoza knew how to do, it was how to get a woman to leave her station. He was a big flirt.

Jo smirked, as she found the door. The plaque on the outside read: Amanda Palmero, Head Curator. She tapped on it, pulling her suit jacket straight as the door swung open.

"Hi, remember me?"

Amanda fixed her facial expression before it soured; giving Jo a counterfeit smile full of teeth. "Ah, yes, Blair's friend," she gestured for Jo to enter her office. "Joanna was it?"

Jo kept her eyes even-keel. "It's Jo." _Nice try_. Jo gave the woman a quick scan, still not sure what Blair saw in her.

"Of course," Amanda crossed her arms over her chest. "What can I do for you, Jo?"

"Oh," Jo glanced around the decorative office. There were many paintings and artifacts on walls and shelves. "I thought I'd come by and look at some of your artwork. Blair likes a lot of the stuff you have going on here."

"Oh?" There was a slight twitch in her right cheek, as a brown brow rose in question. Jo thought Amanda looked defensive.

"Yeah. She told me over dinner the other night."

It would've been almost comical at the sudden stiffening that was systematically snapped into Amanda's back at the words… so laughable at her reaction; but this was a serious matter, Jo had reminded herself. _Nothing wrong with getting a dig in here and there… that's what you've wanted to do for a while, isn't it, Jo_? She quietly admitted.

Jo smiled at the woman's obvious discomfort. "Just kept saying something about Brian Brown."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Brown's work is a favorite of Blair's. Has been for quite a while," Amanda was twisting a pen she had in her hand.

"Really?" Jo casually put her hands behind her back. She felt relaxed, and in control.

"Absolutely."

"That's funny," Jo's brow dramatically crinkled. "Because she told me he was quite new and only had a few pieces out."

"Well, yes… that's true…" Amanda's face fell as her eyes bored into Jo's.

"Well, which is it?" Jo was blunt, perhaps _too_ blunt as she saw the woman draw up her face, then decidedly chuckle at her. She half chuckled back not quite sure what angle she was now on, but willing to play along.

Amanda chose to change the subject instead, "Is there something in particular you wanted, Jo?"

Jo almost laughed out loud at the sudden change in manner . She knew she'd bought Mendoza enough time to clear the front desk. She made up her mind.

"A quick tour of the exhibit would be nice," Jo glanced at her watch for effect. "I don't have a lot of time," another crisp smile.

Amanda's face was tense. "I think I can arrange that," she opened the door and allowed Jo to move past her.

Jo waited for Amanda to lead the way, but not without glancing down the hall and seeing Mendoza causally making his way toward her. She nodded then winked, as she followed Amanda toward the Brian Brown exhibit.

It would be twenty minutes before Mendoza would send her an _all-clear_ text. Jo cleverly put her phone back in her pocket as Amanda was wrapping up her tour. A few patrons had joined them as she outlined the artist's profile and explained his art pieces.

"So, what do you think?" Amanda asked.

There were about fifteen paintings and nine sculptures in the exhibit. Jo had spied a midsized painting in the far left corner of the exhibit. It was, truthfully… quite breathtaking, she'd decided. The colors were vibrant, alluring and mellow all at the same time; and for some reason her eyes kept going back to it.

"I think she'll like that one," she pointed.

"Where?" Amanda looked around the exhibit.

"Over there," Jo took a few steps toward it.

Amanda shook her head, chuckling rather cynically. "Oh, that's not quite Blair's taste," she chastised.

Jo's eyes were riveted to it. She tilted her head. "I think she'll like it."

"Really?" Amanda squinted, unconvinced, "I was thinking something more down to earth. She likes subtle colors," she directed.

Jo heard the inflection… the small demand in her tone. She drew her eyes to Amanda's. _You think you know her better?_ "Mmmm… no. I think she'll like this just fine," she threw a defying look at her.

"Are you sure? It's got a hefty price tag."

There was a sharp glint in her eyes accompanied by a lazy grin that grew on her lips, as Amanda openly challenged their exchange. She knew what she was doing, rather, boldly sure of which buttons to push.

 _So, you've done a little homework on me_. Jo held the eyes of the curator. She pushed back a sneer before it formed on her face. "I'm fine with that," she stated assuredly

Amanda held her ground, and the two actually faced off for a quiet moment before she relented. She tilted her head, deferring, "As you wish, Ms. Pol—"

"Ah, ah ah…" Jo corrected odiously.

"Jo," a quick retort. "Yes, well…" Amanda uncomfortably scratched the back of her neck, "It's going to take a while, we have to prepare it then—"

"Wrap it up, I'll wait," Jo said loudly. She'd meant to interrupt, and quite enjoyed the momentary distress she'd caused. "Please," she added for good measure: her smile never reaching her eyes.

 _If looks could kill_. Jo rocked back on her heels as she watched Amanda order her staff to unhook, then gently take down the painting in question – _a bit angrily_ , she surmised. A quick, curt nod, then a brisk turn, as Amanda stalked her way down the hall, back to her office.

* * *

Blair had just ended a three way video conference call when she heard a faint knock on her door. Tootie's face peeked in.

"Blair?"

"Tootie?" She watched as the thespian made her way through the door. "Hi, what are you…"

"I just came by to tell you that your cover's blown." Tootie stated, significantly.

Blair didn't like the sound of that. She sat back in her chair as Tootie seated herself in front of her desk.

"What did you do?" she eyed her skeptically. Her friend had on a dark pair of sunglasses.

Tootie sat her purse down on the chair beside her. "I told Natalie," she said matter-of-factually.

Blair's face fell. "What!?"

Tootie blinked. "Everything."

"Why would you do that!?" Blair's eyes grew big, not really believing what she was hearing.

"She… I … I was drunk," Tootie pushed up her glasses.

"You don't drink," Blair said incredulously.

"Which is why the dark glasses, Blair. I have a splitting headache."

"Please tell me you're kidding," Blair's voice was now rising and Tootie squirmed a bit.

"I'm not kidding." That was met with silence. "She's not going to tell anyone," Tootie added, hoping to sound persuasive.

"Tootie, I trusted you!"

Tootie took a deep breath then whipped off her shades. She looked at the very agitated woman in front of her. "Think about it this way, Blair. Nat's a reporter," she noted the annoyed curl of Blair's lip at that. "She was bound to find out about Paul and John anyway," she finished offhandedly.

Blair closed her eyes, then shook her head. _True_. She couldn't deny Tootie was correct about Paul and John's upcoming wedding. "They're getting married soon," she admitted a bit reluctantly.

"Were."

Blair's eyebrow's shot up. "What do you mean?"

Tootie crossed her leg daintily over her knee. "They postponed it."

"Again?"

"The play," Tootie stated simply.

It took a moment to register before Blair conceded. "Oh, right."

"Not good to overshadow your fellow actors by announcing a wedding right after opening night," Tootie explained.

Blair still felt on edge about the matter.

"So what's your point?"

"Face it, Blair. You only had two weeks left before everything came out: breaking news, Blair Warner shocked as boyfriend marries boyfriend. Explain that!"

"I was going to say I had no idea then swear off men for the rest of my life, remember?"

Tootie stared at the president of Warner Textiles for a few seconds. "Did we go over that?"

"Yes, Tootie!"

Tootie swallowed, then decidedly waved it away. "That's full of holes, Nat would've seen right through it, " she paused, "but you know… you could still use that, only now Natalie's agreed to help you bridge everything." Tootie saw the unconvinced look on Blair's face, "the exposé?" she clarified.

It was a fluff piece, a shallow, vanilla look into the family, the business and…"my private life," Blair said softly, an idea forming. "Not a bad idea."

"Really?" Tootie looked surprised.

Blair nodded more firmly as she thought about it.

"Really. Think about it. We'll let the information about Paul come out naturally, I'll fake shock and awe, then Natalie can cover my emotional turmoil, and my plans to swear off men with the exposé."

Tootie held her tongue. It was the excited look she was getting that halted her decision to go along with the plan. "Swear off men? Blair why don't you just admit that you're gay?"

Blair blew out a breath. That was a tough one. She felt no qualms personally. She was content with herself, her sexuality. It had taken a while, but she'd learned to accept and love herself for who she really was. Her parents? The board? That was a different matter. Everything _screamed_ unpredictable when it came to them; and to take chances…

Tootie studied her friend. She saw the subtle changes in Blair's mood. She was never one to hide her true feelings: her demeanor and body language giving everything away.

"Tim Cook," she said.

Blair came out of her thoughts at the words. "I'm sorry?"

"He's the head of Apple. The CEO, and he's gay."

Blair was quiet for a moment. She could feel her heartbeat; her breathing was quicker than usual. _Is this what it's always going to be like when faced with uncertainty? For Christ sake it's 2017._

Was it a new revelation? _No_ , truth be told. Blair had teetered on coming clean with her family, quite recently. She just needed time… time to…

 _What?_

She glanced at Tootie, straightening herself in the chair.

"You're right. It's time to be truthful and live my life the way I want to." It sounded great coming out of her mouth as she'd said it. But hearing the words spoken out loud shot a nervous twinge through her.

Tootie sported a genuine smile. "Good for you Blair, I'm with you one hundred percent."

Blair just smiled, pushing down any further feelings. "What about Natalie? How's she taking it?'

"Actually, she's still a little in shock," Tootie said truthfully.

"I can understand. She used to worship my ability to land a man with one flick of my hair and a wink."

She demonstrated the move for Tootie who laughed at the way Blair had always flirted when there was a man she wanted attention from around.

"How did that feel?" she asked. She had always been a little in awe of Blair's physical beauty, and her ability to use it to her advantage.

"Powerful," Blair let out a quick, wry laugh. "But empty," she thought for a moment. "It's like you finally catch the biggest fish in the pond; then once you do, all of the excitement wears off and all you want to do is throw it back."

Tootie watched her for a second. "It's been like that for you, really?"

"I've come to discern, yes." Blair gave her friend a sad half-smile, "It's always been about power. That's all I've ever known, really. I was raised to be in control and to gain power through my social standing. Men were seen as powerful figures in my life, something I had to match, so…"

"I think I get the picture," Tootie said.

"Do you?" Blair questioned. "Men were like trophies. An arm piece when I needed notoriety. Nothing more," she finished softly.

Tootie leaned forward in her chair, "I know it hasn't been easy for you, but I'm glad you figured it all out."

"I did, eventually," Blair admitted. She shyly looked into the understanding eyes in front of her.

They let a companionable silence fall between them for a while; Tootie suddenly realizing the day was getting away from her.

"I've got to go, rehearsal starts soon, they gave us the afternoon off, but," she glanced at her watch. "Crap, I have to go."

Tootie made her way across the office. She only had ten minutes to get back over to the theater house. She opened the door. "Blair?"

"Yes?"

"I meant it before when I said I want you to be happy," Tootie gave her friend a reassuring look.

Blair let the warmth of that sink in to her. She treasured her friends. "I know. Thanks, Tootie."

Tootie waved, then quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

It was the end of the work day; Blair twisted around in her chair facing the windows behind her. She stood, then crossed her arms over her chest and let out a nervous breath, as she took in the tall buildings in front of her. The scenery was beautiful from up here… quiet, peaceful, _safe_.

Alone.

She'd gotten used to it. Security was tightening, so being isolated was a given at times. Blair absentmindedly traced the windowpane with her finger. S _hould I settle for what is?_ She dropped her hand then hugged herself, letting out a shaky breath; closing her eyes. _Or go for what I want…_

 _Want…_

Perhaps it was all just immaterial. Perhaps it was fate or drive or whatever _binds_ two or more people together for whatever reason during a lifetime. Blair shook her head to clear it. She felt no need to examine it further. Just acknowledging it was enough for now.

She tapped in Hamilton's number, then moved to shut down her computer and pack up her briefcase.

"Hi, could you bring the car around please?... I want to pick up my car... Yes, I'm sure Admuir is finished detailing it... I'll be using it for the rest of the day. I'll be down in five minutes."

Blair closed her briefcase, and exited her office, locking the door. The lobby was quiet. She looked across the hall at the Marketing Departments door. She assumed Emily had already left for the day. Barry had been a no show for their meeting earlier. He'd used the excuse of representing the company at the networking event that was in town. She was glad. No one else wanted to do it.

Blair took the elevator down and met Hamilton in the executive garage where he'd already opened the limousine's door for her. She thanked him, then got in making herself comfortable as the large black car maneuvered its way out of the garage.

* * *

It was becoming more and more of a ritual – Monday through Friday at about six o'clock Charlie would make his way out to the small stoop at Jo's apartment. He'd sit in the chair he'd left out, and prop his crutches against the rail. Mrs. De Palma would be puttering around in her flower bed next door, and they'd often quip and quibble about the day's latest news or comment on various strangers passing by.

It caught their attention - the slow arrival of a fire engine red convertible. Charlie squinted then used his hand to shield the sun as he couldn't quite make out who was driving the car. It stopped in front of Jo's apartment, parking at the curb and giving him a better view.

The engine was cut as two shapely legs fell out of the driver side of the car. Charlie let out a low whistle. "That's a beaut!"

Blair smiled a bit self consciously, not sure if he meant the car or…

"Hi Charlie," she said, taking off her sunglasses.

Charlie's head shot up as he realized who the owner was. "Blair! How ya' doin!?'" he yelled, then gave her a guilty smile. He cleared his throat. "Jo's not here."

"Where is she?" Blair had closed the car door, locking it - then made her way to stand on the sidewalk.

Charlie shrugged. "Still at work, I guess. She left early this morning."

"Oh," Blair said quietly. She noticed as the woman who had been working in her garden came up to her.

"Hello," Blair gave the woman a curious greeting.

"You friend of Jo?"

"Yes," Blair said politely, still a bit curious; her eyes flicked to Charlie then back to the woman, who appeared to be checking her out, or sizing her up – whichever, it made her feel a little uneasy.

Meo De Palma finally nodded to herself in conclusion.

"She have good taste," she barked out.

"I'm sorry?" Blair frowned at her.

Charlie chuckled at the exchange, deciding to come to Blair's rescue.

"Eh, Blair Warner, that's Mrs. Meo De Palma our next door neighbor, there."

"Nice to meet you, Blair Warner," Meo greeted her.

"You too," Blair said. She allowed herself to relax at the formal introduction.

Meo squeezed her arm then turned and shook her garden hoe at Charlie. "Charlie, you get more herb for Jo wound when ready!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing," he said lazily.

"She need heal fast!" Meo stated, then turned and went back to her tilling.

Charlie watched as Blair stared after the peculiar woman for a bit, then made her way up the stairs of Jo's apartment building.

"You wanna' come inside for a minute?" he stood, grabbing his crutches before opening the door. "Somethin' to drink?"

Blair caught the door, allowing Charlie to hobble through. She hadn't noticed his cast when she'd pulled up. "Well, I… sure," she decided as Charlie made his way to the kitchen.

She looked around the apartment. _Jo's done well for herself_. She didn't know why, but that tickled her; made a giggle almost escape her.

"Jo will be here any second," Charlie announced over his shoulder as he retrieved two glasses from the cupboard.

Blair nodded then sat down on a stool at the kitchen counter. "What happened to your foot?" she asked.

"Eh, happened while I was on the road. Had a heavy delivery, and macho me thought I could just carry it in there. Machine part fell on it. Took out two bones. Jo's puttin' me up here until this thing comes off." He pointed to his casted foot; then poured two glasses of orange juice.

"How nice of her," Blair took the glass, taking a sip; then set it down, "Mrs. De Palma mentioned she has a wound?"

Charlie paused bringing the glass up to his lips, "What? She didn't tell ya?"

"Of course not," Blair said tersely.

 _Figures_. Charlie shook his head. "Lil' brat was speeding and hit a pothole. Went right off the bike. A sharp rock slices her side wide open on the way down." He moved his hand - simulating the slice over his midsection.

Blair watched him, curling up her face at the thought. "Ouch."

"Had to have seven stitches. I warned her about goin' so fast," Charlie downed the rest of his juice.

"She's stubborn," Blair said.

"Doesn't listen," Charlie agreed, then burped a little. "So, uh, you two s'pose to be goin' someplace?"

 _Ah, the reason I'm here_. She didn't expect Charlie to be here, in fact. "No. I just needed to talk to Jo about something is all," she paused to take a sip of juice. "I'm sure she's mentioned her company's working on a project with Warner?"

"Yeah, yeah, she did say somethin' about havin' to work over there all the time. How's it goin'?"

"It's been going pretty well," Blair grinned slightly then drank the rest of her orange juice.

Charlie waited for her to finish then took her glass, putting it in the sink with his. He turned, and rubbed his chin hesitantly. "So, uh… I know it's been a while but… how's your mom?"

Blair lifted an amused brow.

"Monica? She's doing fine," she offered. She was aware her mother and Charlie had formed a friendship of sorts. If that was what you would call it. They laughed together... got along, unlike their children.

Charlie smiled a little nervously. "Oh, good, good… that's good."

It would be almost an hour before they would look at the clock – having caught up on everything, and everyone: school, the job, a little politics.

Blair glanced at her watch. "It's getting late, I really need to go," she said hopping off the stool.

"This was nice," Charlie said.

Blair looked at him appreciatively. "It was. We should do this again."

Charlie nodded, then remembered: "Oh, hey, I sent her a message…" he checked his texts… _nothing_. His face looked forlorn. "Sorry about that. You wanna' leave her a note or somethin?"

"No, thanks, Charlie. I've been trying to reach her all day too," Blair smiled. She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice, "I'll just see her in the morning," she said.

"Kay."

Charlie walked her out and watched as she made her way down the steps.

"Say uh, what year is that?" he pointed to the car.

"It's a '76, limited edition," Blair said, "very rare," she couldn't help adding. David had gotten it for her sixteenth birthday, and she'd taken excellent care of it.

"Oh yeah? Good year," Charlie admired the show car for a few moments more. "Oh, hey I'll let Jo know you came by lookin' for her."

Blair smiled at that. "Thanks Charlie, bye," she waved at him, then got in the car and turned on the motor.

Charlie watched as she peeled out, and down the street.

"Fine piece of machinery," he mumbled.

A yellow taxi pulled up to the curb and Jo's head popped out of the back seat door. Charlie frowned. "Hey! Hey, you got rotten' timin' you know that?!"

He saw the puzzled look from his daughter as she reached into the car and grabbed Ace's leash, unhooking it as the dog barked then quickly ran up the apartment stairs. Jo had been late picking him up from doggy camp. Charlie barely held the door open for him, as he dashed to his water bowl.

"What?" Jo had just gotten around to addressing her father. "What did I do now?"

"Blair. She just pulled off," Charlie pointed down the street, and Jo looked as if she was still there.

"What was she doing here?" she asked as she tipped the cabbie, then lifted a large square painting from the trunk. It was wrapped, tightly in brown paper.

"She came by to talk to you about somethin,' I dunno. Don't you check your messages?"

Jo struggled a little carrying the painting and her briefcase, which was hanging off of her shoulder, up the stairs. "Phone's dead," she answered as she went inside.

Charlie followed her in.

"What's that?"

"Just a little something." Jo left her briefcase by the front door, then carried the painting to her room; shutting the door.

* * *

It was 8:15am and Blair had agreed to meet Meg at _The Café_ for a quick breakfast before going into the office. They'd both ordered their usual and had settled into a light banter.

The waiter set a bowl of sugar on their table. "Thank you," Blair said wiping her mouth.

Meg spooned a little sugar into her coffee. "I'm glad you could meet me for breakfast. It's been so hard to keep up with you now-a-days."

Blair hummed in agreement. "We just have a lot going on." She said around a mouthful of eggs.

Meg sipped her coffee. "How's Jo doing?

"She's doing fine," Blair cut a piece of ham then chewed it.

Meg watched her for a bit. "You sure about that?""

"Why wouldn't I be?" Blair grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it.

"Nothing… just…" Meg sat her cup down.

Blair eyed her. "What Meg?"

Meg thought of a good way to say it. "Usually you two would be at each other's throats by now."

Blair chuckled. "We probably would be if it weren't for the fact that we have to keep things professional," she cut another piece of ham.

"Has Amanda met her yet?"

Blair swallowed then slowly placed her fork and knife on her plate. Sighing, she wiped her mouth with a linen napkin. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" her expression was one of annoyance.

Meg waved a spoon. "Wha-nothing, nothing. I was just wondering since Jo is right there everyday," she scooped some oatmeal onto her spoon.

Blair pursed her lips. "Yes, Amanda's met her," she conceded, hoping that would be the last of the interrogation.

"And?"

"And?" she shrugged. "They were cordial and that was it," Blair took a bite of her toast.

Meg watched her as she chewed. "Oh."

Blair stopped chewing and frowned. "Meg."

"What?" Meg saw the brow of question rise. She sighed, "I was just wondering if Amanda was maybe a little—" she let it hang there, knowing Blair would understand what she was asking.

"Jealous? And why would she be?" Blair felt irritated.

Meg shrugged dubiously. "Nothing. You're right, she has absolutely no reason to be jealous of Jo."

Meg ate another spoonful of oatmeal, aware of brown eyes staring at her. She added a few raisins to her bowl then stirred it without looking up. She heard the loud sigh from her tablemate.

"She is," Blair admitted. "She sees Jo as competition."

Meg glanced up from her bowl. "For?"

"Me, of course," Blair gave her a slightly offended look. "My attention… it's silly." She fluffed the napkin in her lap.

"That's not so silly, Blair," Meg stated.

"What do you mean by that?" Blair asked curiously. Meg's insight was something she often sought out whenever she felt vulnerable. They'd built a comfortable companionship the fourteen years they'd been lucky enough to be sisters.

Meg sat back in her chair. "Well. Jo doesn't know you're gay, does she?"

"I haven't exactly disclosed that bit of information to her, no." Blair picked up her fork and stirred around little leftover pieces of her breakfast on her plate.

"And she doesn't know you and Amanda are dating?"

"We're not really dating, just seeing each other," a breath. "She's helping me," Blair said quietly.

Meg's blue eyes shot a look at her. "Helping you?"

"Feel more comfortable with myself. My sexuality," Blair clarified. She wondered if that was the right way to explain her relationship with Amanda. It wasn't exactly serious… it felt more… casual.

Meg peered at her, then waited a beat. "So, she's like a stand-in."

"Yes… no… _what?"_ It was just like Meg to stir the pot. She wasn't entirely sure if she minded or welcomed her insight this time around.

"She's your little test dummy," Meg prodded.

 _Okay, now that's going too far_. "No, no nothing like that," a sharp shake of the head. Blair felt a little offended. "Meg!"

"What? I'm just observing, Blair, no judgments," Meg said protectively. She ate another spoonful of oatmeal.

Blair squinted at her tablemate. "Well, it sure feels like you are," she drank the last of her orange juice.

Meg dabbed her mouth. "Ok, look. Can I be forward with you?"

Blair had to weigh the question for a moment. Meg's forwardness often meant prying. She decided to be tough today. After all, what did she have to hide anymore? "I can take it." She folded her arms in her lap giving her stepsister a _try me_ look.

Meg blew out a breath. "It's like Amanda's just filling in, breaking you in for when Ms. Right comes galloping along."

Blair gave Meg a disbelieving stare, then laughed a bit nervously. "It's not like that." _God, not at all!_

"Isn't it?" Meg got no answer, just silence. She sensed she'd stumbled onto a bit of reality for Blair. She made up her mind, straightening a bit in her seat. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"That depends," Blair said a little incensed.

 _Oooo, hit a nerve for sure_. Meg blinked.

"How personal?" Blair hiked an inquisitive brow.

"Pretty personal, and you said you could take it," Meg smiled deviously.

"Fine. Shoot," Blair was not one to back down from a challenge.

"Have you kissed Amanda?"

Meg saw the hesitant and almost guilty look Blair tried to cover up. That pretty much indicated she was on to something. She knew it was the right question.

Blair inclined her head in a warning manner, shaking it. "Meg."

Meg gave her a stern look back. _Don't try to flip this Blair._ "You said you could take it. It's a simple question."

Blair closed her eyes then exhaled. "Okay. No." _Satisfied?_

Meg opened her mouth a bit surprised by the answer. "No?" Her brow wrinkled. "Why not?"

Why not indeed. Blair had tried to make sense of it all. There was no logical answer. Amanda was a very attractive woman. She was smart. Witty…

"I don't know," Blair breathed out, not meeting the puzzled eyes.

 _So now we arrive at the hard part_. Meg softened her voice. "I think you do."

Blair tentatively looked at Meg who was waiting for her to react. Do I want to face this now? She shook her head slightly _. Oh God_ , _I don't know anything anymore._

Meg sympathized with her step sister's sudden confusion. Oh, the wonders of matters of the heart. She decided to soften her rhetoric.

"Blair, look. I won't pretend to have all the answers; or even a hand full of them." A soft smile, "All I know is… you know your heart the best. What makes it beat, what makes it race… what makes it _fall_." Meg watched as brown eyes avoided hers, looking down.

Blair's gaze fell to her hands in her lap. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to clear her thoughts – those of confusion and… longing, perhaps. She didn't feel like evaluating it. _It_ being something that was always in the back of her mind… and recently to the forefront, and yet…

"I think once you figure out what or _who_ causes that, well… then you can finally start putting your life together." Meg smiled.

Blair looked up. "You mean my love life?" she said with a little frustrated laugh. She placed her entwined hands on the table, staring at them.

Meg reached over, and rubbed them soothingly, then smiled tenderly. "I mean your _life_."

* * *

Sorry for the long wait, peeps. Chapter 12 is coming very soon. Thank you for hanging in there with me on this slooow burn story. I have really loved all of the reviews, you guys rock!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Notes:**

 _Gragon Islands - are a fictitious made up group of islands, located somewhere in the pacific region._

 _All situations involving the secret service events are totally made up for this story - just wanted to re-iterate._

 _Grico Graphics and Xteco Industries - exist within the confines of this story, only._

 _Blind Trust - I sort of bent the rules for this one. Made up my own, if you will._

 **My beta Z, is a pro. Thank you again for your patience.**

* * *

They had been sitting at the conference table, note pads at the ready, for fifteen minutes. All three agents were in the 10th floor conference room. It was secure and confidentially sound-proof.

Not surprising, Eric was always late to his own meetings. He had called it for 9 a.m. sharp. Coffee had been poured and reports ready as they awaited his arrival.

"Alright I'm glad everyone's here." Agent Nelson came into the room hurriedly, "Let's start with the new stuff." He took a seat at the head of the table, opening his note pad and scribbling down a few notes. He addressed the agent to his left first. "Summers?"

Agent Angela Summers had barely slept two hours the night before. She'd stayed up to receive information coming in from intelligence and analytics. They'd dug into Barry Winstead's private files, extracting valuable information for the case, and her lead.

She took a sip of coffee then opened her file. "Alright." She started reading her notes:

"Bartholomew Harrison Winstead. Born November 23, 1960. The son of Miles and the late Delores Winstead. Graduated Magna cum Laude from Princeton University in 1982, Business Administration, Marketing, M.B.A from Brown University in 1984. He's worked for two companies prior to coming on board at Warner, twenty years ago. He's presently Chief Marketing Officer."

Eric arched his back to get comfortable. "Preliminary stuff we know about him already. What new stuff do we have on him?"

Agent Summers flipped a few papers. "Well, I had to do a little back tracking to find out when he started duplicating the Warner financial sheets."

"And?"

Summers found the page then pointed to the date column, scanning it. "It's been over several months. Definitely during the time Russell Warner was president."

Eric nodded. "So Russell Warner gave consent?"

Summers nodded back. "Apparently."

"Why?" Eric looked around the room at each agent.

"That's the million dollar question," Jo chimed in.

The table was quiet for a few moments. Eric took in a breath then pointed to Agent Mendoza. "You're up."

Mendoza cleared his throat. "I just got this report back a few minutes ago from analytics. From Ms. Palmero's hard drive, I was able to extract all of the Villa Manzi Gallery's financial statements. Those of their numerous philanthropic donations include the Warner Textiles Corporation. It seems they have been giving money to the gallery foundation for many years, so nothing out of the ordinary there…" He stopped then eyed all three agents.

"What?" Jo saw the look agent Mendoza often sported when he knew something significant. "Let's hear it." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

Agent Mendoza gave her a crooked grin. "As of the last seven months, the Villa Manzi Gallery has been accepting large donations from the Warner Textiles Corporation." He read from the file.

"How often?" Jo asked before Eric could form the question.

"Every month, until Russell Warner died," Mendoza finished.

Well, now isn't that interesting. Since when does a major corporation give a donation to an art gallery _every_ month? Jo pursed her lips. "How much a month?"

"Millions," he brought his file up close to his face to rattle off the dates and numbers. Jo mentally added them up and then asked the most obvious question: "What's the total of the transactions during that period?"

Mendoza looked up. "One hundred eighty million dollars."

Silence.

So… it was officially confirmed. Jo shook her head. "Son of a –"

"Yep," Mendoza said, placing the file on the table.

"Does Palmero know about these transactions?" Eric looked around the table, only to find glaring green eyes on him.

"Of course she does!" Jo said angrily, "She's probably working with him to hide it. Isn't it obvious?"

Eric thought for a moment, "Don't be so quick to jump to conclusions, Agent Polniaczek."

"Jump to!?" Jo caught herself, "I'm merely pointing out the obvious," Jo gestured toward the file on the table.

"You think it's obvious?" Eric was curious to know her explanation.

"Yeah, she's working in cahoots' with Winstead." Jo was quite adamant about that.

Eric shook his head doubtfully, "We don't know that for sure."

"What do you mean!? It's right here in black and white!" Jo grabbed Mendoza's file, then flipped through it. She threw it down on the table.

Eric rubbed his chin, shaking his head. "It looks that way, but tell me…"

"What?" Jo felt a bit exasperated at Eric's calm demeanor about the whole thing. This is what they'd been waiting for, _proof!_

"Do you think Blair is working with Winstead as well? She's signed off on all of his allocated funds for the marketing budget since she took the chair."

"That's different," Jo bit back.

"How?" Eric asked doubtful.

"He's been sneaking it in since before she took the chair, Eric, c'mon," she gave him a frank stare, "that money's been in there since before she took over. He was working along with Russell Warner." Jo couldn't help but let the anger creep into her voice.

"We don't have any guarantee's either way," Eric said. "We need something solid that says Palmero knows about the money, otherwise we have another scenario where Winstead is using his sources without their knowledge."

"Seriously, you don't think she knows about that much money being in the gallery coffers?" Jo let out a snide laugh.

Mendoza picked up the file then read the last page of the report. He sighed. "It's a blind trust."

All three agents turned their attention to Mendoza, who was scanning the page. "She had no way of knowing," he looked up seeing Jo rigorously shaking her head. "Winstead used her the same as Ms. Warner," he concluded, giving her a 'sorry about that' expression.

"How could she not know!" Jo was still determined. They'd come this far, what could possibly be a spoiler?

"Codes." Mendoza held up a spreadsheet, seeing Jo's eyes riveted to it.

"Okay now this is getting confusing, Agent Mendoza. Care to clarify for us?" Eric asked.

Mendoza took in a long breath. "This guy knows his stuff." He pointed to the small numbers beside each date. "If you look here, you'll see these codes are from a source outside of the gallery's system." He paused to see each agent nod. "I had analytics trace any found codes. Looks like these go back to a fund set up through Winstead's trust deed."

"So? That just means Palmero is the beneficiary, right?" Jo's voice was harsh.

Mendoza nodded. "Technically, correct, however…"

"Ah, geeze here we go…" Jo threw her hands up.

"I'm looking at this and I just don't see how she could know about the amount of money he's been funneling in," Mendoza pointedly said to Jo, "not with the system Winstead has in place. It's one sided. His."

"But it's a perfect set up if you want to hide millions of dollars," Agent Summers said.

"Looks like it," Eric concurred. "She's not completely off the hook though."

"What are you thinking on this?" Jo was looking to her superior for his insight. She still had a feeling Amanda was possibly going along with whatever Barry Winstead had going on.

There was a connection somewhere. Something they were missing…

"I want to find out more before I conclude anything." Eric said, "I want all of you to find out what we don't know, what we _should_ know," he reiterated. "Go over everything, retrace. We're missing something… big."

Everyone moved for the door. "I want new reports by tomorrow, we have to close this case," Eric stated, firmly.

"I can trail Winstead," Jo had caught up with Agent Mendoza out in the hall, "I'm heading over to Warner in a couple of hours anyway."

Mendoza paused for a moment, "Okay, yeah, do that, I'm going to wrap up his capstone then review my notes from our little trip to the gallery yesterday." He folded the stack of files then tapped them on the palm of his hand. "I feel like I'm overlooking something."

* * *

"Thank you Mark, I'm looking forward to seeing where this takes us." Blair firmly shook the hand of the white haired CEO as they both exited her office.

"Thank you Blair, I look forward to working with you as well." He gave her a frank smile.

The meeting had gone well. Blair anxiously wanted to work with the small firm. Xteco Industries had and made several products that would be very beneficial to Warner's fabric development; their collaboration would help sustain one of the domestic markets they were targeting.

"I think this will be a great partnership," she said as she walked the executive to the elevator.

Her hand hovered close to the down button, only to pull back as the doors suddenly slid open, reveling Jo standing in the center of the car. Her briefcase was gripped tightly in her hand and the dark suit she was wearing was crisply pressed; her hair styled without a strand out of place. She nodded her head once and held a no-nonsense expression as she noticed Blair was a bit startled to see her.

"Thank you, we won't let you down." Mark had said as he maneuvered himself around Jo's form to stand in the elevator. "Excuse me." He gave her a polite grin, then reached over and pressed the lobby button before shifting his eyes between the two women. They were staring at each other.

Blair cleared her throat as she watched Jo exit the steel box and the doors shut behind her.

"Hi," she gave a small, guarded smile.

"Hi." Jo took in a breath, keeping her eyes steady. _Get through this then back to the office._

Blair made a motion toward her office door. "Um... I was just getting ready to go to lunch." She padded her way into the office aware of Jo following behind her. "I thought you were coming in earlier."

Jo stood between the guest chairs, while Blair turned and sat on the edge of her desk directly facing her. Her skirt had hiked up considerably, and she noticed a slight shift of green eyes as she got comfortable.

Jo kept her composure. "I had a few things I needed to work on first."

"I understand," Blair crossed one leg over the other. "Can I ask you something?"

That was answered with a nonchalant shrug, as Jo chose to look around the office, not meeting the questioning brown eyes in front of her.

"Why haven't you returned my calls?" Blair pressed.

"Busy."

Blair slightly rolled her eyes. _God, vague one word answers…so we're back to this_. "Busy. Hmm… that's a pretty flimsy excuse," she countered, lifting a brow.

Green eyes snapped to brown. "Things happened and I had to take care of them," Jo replied heatedly.

Blair had always been aware of Jo's mood changes; the sudden shift of her temperament was something she was used too. Perhaps the capstone was stressing her out…

"I see." Blair flicked the bangs from her eyes then slowly uncrossed her legs only to cross them the other way, the smooth lines of her thighs sliding together. "So you've lost all control of your fingers?"

Jo switched her briefcase to her other hand. "What are you talking about, Blair?"

"A text, Jo," Blair lightly kicked her top leg back and forth. "...Jo?"

It would be a few moments before Jo would look up, quizzically, into brown eyes. One's that held a glint and crinkled around the edges as the smile that followed grew broad and toothy.

Jo licked her lips. Apparently she had been… _distracted_ , and now embarrassed as it proved her name had been called more than once.

"I already told you I was busy," she said in an irritated attempt to recover their conversation. "Look, Blair, I'm at the part of this project that requires a lot of concentration. I had to have complete peace and quiet to get through it," she explained.

Another flick of hair as Blair's expression became sympathetic. "I could've provided that here…" Her tone softened, "I mean… anything you want… I can get that for you. After all, I am the president. If you need to go anywhere, I can have a car brought around for you."

Jo swallowed. Normally she would've been offended by the generosity of Blair's offerings. She breathed out a breath, noticing the sincerity of the woman. "I'm fine now."

"Are you?" Blair flicked her eyes up and down Jo's form.

"Yeah." Jo backed up a few steps. "Look, I'm just going to set up out here then I'll be back in to ask you a few questions," she finished, then edged her way to the door.

Blair watched her with a little more than confused curiosity. "Okay." She stayed seated on the desk, watching as Jo slipped out of the room.

Jo sighed as she rounded her desk. _Business first_. She set up her laptop, then phone; connecting it. She gingerly sat down, then tapped the back of her ear. "Test."

 _"Here. How's it going?"_

Jo logged on then signed into the capstone project. "It's going. I checked in with security, they said Winstead hasn't come in yet " She typed in a few characters, then halted. "Do me a favor."

There was a pause then _, "What?"_

"I need Mendoza to get a test for paint on Winstead's front bumper," Jo clicked into a file. "I know he uses a company car when at Warner, so it might still be here."

 _"I'm following you. Forensics just sent back a paint type on your fender, by the way."_ Jo heard the papers of the report crinkle on the other end.

She shook her head, not surprised. "Want to bet he has the other match on _his_ bumper?"

 _"You'd probably win that one I'm afraid… how are you holding up over there?"_

"I told you good." Jo checked her watch, then eyed Blair's office door.

 _"…Sure?"_

Eric couldn't see the glare Jo lobbed at him, but he heard the frustration in her voice. "I'm fine. I'm getting ready to ask a few questions in a minute, then head back over there."

 _"Careful, keep it professional."_

"I got this, Eric," Jo smirked as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

 _"Okay. Good luck."_

"Right." Jo tapped him off then started to gather her questions together.

* * *

The door was knocked on before it slowly opened. "Agent Nelson?"

Eric looked up, "Ms. Green," A smile, "Just finished with your phone." Eric opened his top drawer.

"I hope it was of help," she tucked her skirt under to sit down, "I mean… after everything…" she sighed. "I hate the tactics we use to get stories but—"

"Ms. Green, you are aware that by recording a private conversation without consent, you have violated federal law legally?" Eric spared no introductions.

Natalie let her smile fade. "Wait, what?" She wasn't expecting that. She'd just had coffee and a donut… maybe a quick 'how are you?' Or, 'how's your morning been so far?'

Eric continued. "Technically, you have immunity because of the fact that Ms. Palmero is a suspect in a federal investigation – but had she not been, well… I'm sure you're aware…"

"Yeah, I know I have to have permission of at least one party… something like that," Natalie said.

Federal law, state law. Something like that. Natalie was well aware of the rules of gathering information on a suspect, a witness, or a bystander for that matter.

Eric handed her the phone. "Correct. My point is, you cannot use this tactic anymore. We won't be able to use the evidence."

The reporter understood. "But I'm still an informant, right?"

Eric gave her a curt smile. "Correct again, but as for _this_ case we will no longer be needing your services." He drummed his fingers on the desktop, watching her.

Natalie lifted a questioning brow. "Does this mean it's solved?" _That was quick_ , she mused.

"I'm not at liberty to divulge that information, Ms. Green," the agent gave her a firm look.

Natalie nodded then paused, realizing her position. "Oh. I guess that means I'm off the hook. For now," she said cautiously.

"Pretty much," Eric pinned her with an austere look while pivoting back and forth in his chair.

"So, just like that, I'm being taken off the case?" Natalie leaned back in her chair with a feeling of relief.

"Yes." Eric spared no words.

"What about Jo?" It had to be asked.

"You're still on the hook for protecting her identity as an agent of the government. Make no mistake. You do not want to be a leak, Ms. Green," Eric replied stoically.

Natalie's eyes went wide with the realization of her commitment. The circumstances around it became just that much more clear. She was in this for a long time to come. "I understand," she said soberly.

Eric nodded, then waited a beat; aware of the reporters internal dilemma. He took in a breath. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Green."

* * *

"Hey."

Blair looked up from her report. She was aware Jo had been standing in the doorway for a few moments before announcing herself. "Hi. Come on in," she gave her a curt nod.

Jo closed the door behind her then quietly stepped into the room. She watched as Blair started to go over to the drink cart. "Don't get up. I'm just going to ask a few questions then I'm gone for the day," she pointed to her note pad.

Blair ignored the request and grabbed a glass from the bar. "Would you like something to drink?"

Jo shook her head, "No, thank you."

"Okay." Blair slowly put the glass down then moved over to the couch. "Here," she sat down gently. "I thought it would be more comfortable to sit on the couch."

Jo looked at the blonde from where she was standing. She shook her head again, "That's not necessary, Blair, I—"

"Insist," a demanding brow rose along with an unyielding expression. "Jo, you've been sitting at a desk all day."

"I'm fine," came the stiff reply, as Jo lifted her chin.

"What about your side?" Blair asked, unabashed.

Jo could feel brown eyes drifting to glance at her side then back up in question. She scoffed; then popped her tongue in her cheek. _Unbelievable_. "Pop told you." It wasn't a question.

"Why didn't you say something? I could've provided more comfortable accommodations," Blair offered.

"It's okay… really," Jo hesitated before making up her mind, then moved to sit down on the couch. "I'm fine, Blair. Let's just start, alright?"

Blair watched her headstrong friend carefully sit down, then ready her pad and pen – noting the large gap on the couch between them. She crossed her legs tightly. "Ask away."

Jo poised her pen over her pad. "You're working on a new Asian division for growth?"

"That's right." Blair swiped a stray hair from her face.

Jo scribbled a bit before asking, "Is this to replace the warehouses that were destroyed?"

"No. It's to increase revenue from the manufacturing facilities we already have. All of our capital will be put into creating revenue streams," Blair replied confidently.

Jo looked up from her pad. "So no rebuilding?"

"No. We decided that would be best," Blair said assuredly.

Jo nodded in understanding. "Who's signing on with you on this project?"

"Emily Gasturson and Barry Winstead; marketing and advertising heads. We haven't formally outlined a report for the board, but they are aware of our intentions." Blair plucked at a small string on her skirt. She dusted it then looked up into questioning green eyes.

"Do you think they'll approve it?" Jo asked.

"That's our hope. We've gone over all of the key, crucial parameters and it looks like a good prospectus," Blair remarked.

Jo sat back. "Whose idea was it?"

"Mine," Blair sported a little smile.

Jo paused, then tapped her pen on her pad. "Why?"

Blair shrugged. "I wanted to make a… do something to…" Brown eyes rolled a bit at her own indecisiveness. "Uh…"

"Prove yourself as worthy to be president?" Jo finished for her, giving her an amused smirk.

"I was going to say, start off with something that would make our stockholders happy," Blair amended rather forwardly.

"But I was close," Jo pointed her pen at the president, which earned her a brief smile.

"Probably," Blair moved a strand of hair behind her ear, then quietly looked down.

"Probably?" Jo raised a surprised brow at that. "C'mon Blair, we both know you're being scrutinized everyday by your peers," she said, feeling suddenly protective.

Blair slowly agreed with that. "I'll admit it hasn't been easy to have to prove everything I do as benefitting the company."

"But you're a Warner, you shouldn't have to prove anything. It's _your_ company," Jo was steadfast.

"You mean my Grandfather's company," Blair said with a matter-of-fact expression. "There are people who work here who deem themselves more a part of this company than I am. Strictly because of longevity, and loyalty," she said.

"You mean the board members?" Jo asked hastily.

"Many of them, yes," Blair blinked.

Jo lightly bit the inside of her lip. "Are they putting pressure on you?"

Blair shifted, straightening her skirt. "More like using me. My name, my connections," Her tone was bitter.

"To your father?" Jo queried.

"Okay, now you're getting a bit personal," Blair said nervously. She uncrossed her legs and sat forward. "I really can't get into that side of the business."

It was stated rather tersely, and Jo had to reassess her own talking points. "I understand. I'm sorry."

"I'm just still rattled about the threat to our family," Blair said, giving Jo a quiet expression.

 _Of course_. "Understandable."

Blair watched as Jo wrote down a few notes. "Need I remind you to let me know about _your_ safety?" She punctuated her words.

"I know," Jo smirked without looking up.

"Do you? Do you know how nervous I was for you last night?" Blair said, an edge creeping into her voice.

Jo looked up catching the concerned look aimed at her. "Blair, nothing happened. I made it home."

Blair squinted at the brunette. "You promised me you would let me know." She pinned Jo with a look.

"I..." Jo let out a breath, not meeting the glare. She twisted her lips in a sardonic expression, then stood. "Something came up."

"What? What could've possibly come up that would keep you from letting me know you were alright?" Blair was still sitting and watched as Jo slowly moved toward the door.

"What Jo?!" She stood then moved across the room.

Jo watched Blair maneuver her way over to her. She wanted to hold her breath as her scent wafted around her. "I told you I was safe. Why are you getting so upset?!"

It was said a little more forceful than she'd meant; Jo noted Blair had stopped her approach, a bit alarmed at the sudden anger she sensed rolling off of her.

"Because!" Blair paused, thinking of a good explanation.

"What?" Jo could feel her patience wearing thin.

"You're my friend, I care about you!" It was barked out in an almost challenge.

Jo breathed out a reply, only to catch her breath. She wasn't expecting that. "Well… I didn't ask you to."

There was a brief silence as the two women tried to gauge where this whole thing was going. Blair's phone rang, and she openly ignored it - letting it go straight to voicemail.

She waved a hand at Jo, "You could've at least been honest with me and let me know that, _that_ —"

 _Oh, that does it_. Jo lifted her chin defiantly. "And just what the hell would you know about being honest? Huh, Blair?" Her words were meant to sting and she felt no shame in throwing off the blonde's tirade.

"What are you talking about?" Blair huffed; her brows knitted together.

"I think you know," Jo growled then turned to grab the door knob.

"I have no idea, but you could've been more thoughtful and kept me from worrying and, and —"

"Oh, that's great," Jo let out a laugh, then turned back around, "be more thoughtful of _your_ feelings."

Blair twisted her lips sarcastically. "It would be a first wouldn't it!"

Jo gave her a harsh glare, then turned again, "I don't need this." She opened the door slightly.

"You're overreacting." It was said so dismissively, and Jo watched as Blair gave her a defiant look, which made her all the more angry.

"I'm?!" Jo slammed the door. "You know what? Since this is all we're going to get done, I'll just leave for the day." Her voice held a menacing tone.

Blair moved to stand in front of her office door, forcing Jo to stand directly in front of her. "Oh, no you don't. You're not leaving until we get this ironed out!"

Jo saw the sparkle, the glint of anger. She ignored it. "Blair, get out of my way!"

"No." Blair heaved, her blouse was opened by two buttons, her cleavage was evident and Jo tore her eyes away.

"Move, Blair!"

"No!" Blair came within mere inches of the frustrating woman… the warmth of her body and the anger rolling off of her was almost magnetizing. She breathed in, her voice almost sultry to her ears – not at all sounding the way she meant.

"What are you going to do, huh?" She moved closer, noting the green in Jo's eyes had become darker, her eyelids were lowering. "You're so damn stubborn, egotistical, infuriating! What are _y_ —"

It was within a moment that couldn't be taken back… the lips that harshly landed on the ones in front of hers that Jo realized what had happened. She quickly moved back, staring at what she'd done, her back hitting the door, rattling it. She twisted around, fumbling to open it. Not daring to look behind her, she heard a _gasp_ , and closed her eyes at the sound.

"I, uh… I didn't mean to do that," her voice sounded increasingly strained to her ears, "I-I-I have to go. I'm so sorry."

She tore the door wide and quickly ambled her way down the hall and around the corner without a look back or explanation…

Blair gently touched her lips then closed her eyes. A shaky hand went through her tresses as she tried - to no avail - to make sense of the last few seconds. "Jo… wait, _please_ …" Her voice was soft, weak as were her knees as she managed to lean against Jo's desk.

"Jo…"

 _Oh God….Oh my God…_

Jo had by-passed the elevator, choosing the stairwell instead. She practically hopped down the first two floors, only to slow down and stop at the top of the next floor's riser. Her back met the cold, sobering wall there as she slid to the floor.

"Sh—" she caught herself. Grinding her teeth together, as her side throbbed a bit. She threaded both hands through her hair, closing her eyes tightly.

She took in a long shaky breath, carefully keeping her mind from replaying what she'd just done… the guilt, the shame, the… _longing,_ all hitting her at once.

 _Composure… your job, your job, your job…c'mon, your job._

Jo sat still for several moments; her legs propped up, her back firmly against the wall, she tapped the back of her ear. "Test."

 _"Here."_ There was a long pause _, "Jo?"_

"… Yeah…"

It was said so softly, Eric had barely heard her. " _You don't sound good, Agent."_

"I… I have to uh, run the report, um…" Jo shook her head to clear it. "Did you get the forensics back?"

 _"Not yet_." Eric heard labored breathing and sat back in his chair with a concerned look on his face. _"Are you done for the day?"_

Jo rubbed her face, then took in calming breaths - attempting to temper her heartbeat. She nodded her head slowly. "Yeah... Yeah, I'm done for the day."

She looked up into the bright lights of the stairwell.

 _I'm done._

* * *

He trusted her.

Eric had almost contacted Jo again, but decided whatever she and Blair were doing would have to be handled by his best agent. It was between them, after all.

"Agent Nelson?"

The dark head of agent Mendoza peeked into the office.

"Agent Mendoza," Eric waved him in.

"I've got something," Mendoza held up papers.

"Bring it," Eric replied.

"Just got back the forensics on Winstead's bumper," Mendoza took a seat.

"And?"

"Jo's bike paint is a match," he handed the report to Eric.

Eric scanned the page. "Why would he want to take her out?"

Mendoza rubbed his chin in thought. "I think the better question is _what_ does he know about Jo?"

"I don't see how he or Palmero could know anything, we're iron clad," he laid the papers down on his desk.

Still, Eric didn't like the sound of that. He reached across his desk, tapping a button to dial. "Hey, are you out of the building yet?"

 _"Yep_."

He heard a few, faint voices in the background. "Where are you?"

" _Atrium_ ," Jo replied. _"Thought I'd be best to stick around for a bit. I'm waiting on Winstead. Security said he still hasn't come in yet."_

Eric glanced at Mendoza who frowned at the news. "Forensics got a positive on the paint,"

 _"Figures."_

Agent Mandoza stood then waved at Eric before leaving the office, shutting the door.

Eric leaned back. "We're trying to quickly get to the bottom of this, but all points are leading to him knowing something about you, Agent. Be careful."

" _I will_."

A sudden flicker of nervousness went through Jo. She looked around the atrium. The sun was high in the sky illuminating the space. Various people were milling about. No one looked particularly suspicious.

She got comfortable on the bench she was sitting on, pulling her suit jacket sleeves straight, then fidgeting with her phone, glancing at it a few times…

She tried to calm her nerves. _Focus dammit_. She closed her eyes, and couldn't help it as the brown eyes of the president…

 _Yes that's what she is. Just the president of Warner Textiles. My client, my_ …

Jo took a breath. Stop. Concentrate. She squeezed her eyes together. _Oh man_.

Another breath. " _I think I screwed up really bad."_

"What is it, Jo?"

The voice crackling into her ear startled her. She was so deep in thought she'd forgotten Eric was there.

 _"I—you were right. You were_ right _all along."_ Jo's voice sounded stressed.

Eric waited, gathering his response. A sense of dread started to wash over him. "What's going on Jo, talk to me."

"… About Blair."

Eric rubbed his forehead. He was afraid of this. "How'd that go?"

He heard breathing, then movements and static on the line _. "Bad_... _Really bad..."_

Eric waited, then chewed his lip a bit. "What happened?"

Jo got to her feet and started pacing. _"I got caught up in… I just didn't realize… it was a mistake."_ She stopped then looked around the atrium before pacing again.

Eric took out a document and a pen from his top drawer. He sighed. "What was a mistake, Agent?"

Jo walked fast as she pivoted, then walked the other way, gesturing with her hands animatedly. " _We were arguing, she was being defensive and I got angry, it was—"_

"Stop." Eric began scribbling a few notes; then halted before making an effort to speak clearly. "We don't have time for this, Agent!"

Jo abruptly stopped in her tracks. " _I know what you're going to say_."

"Finish this."

Two words.

Jo knew what they meant. They meant: Go stealth, which meant turn off your emotions and close the case at all costs. She understood that... It was just so much harder to exercise.

"Jo you have to focus on the facts and do your job! This case depends on it!" Eric barked into the phone. He'd be dammed if they'd come this far to lose focus. His lead agent had to get her game face on and see this through, no matter the consequences or collateral.

" _I know_ ," came the quiet reply. Jo tightly closed her eyes; then opened them in an effort to refocus.

"Not good enough, Agent," Eric shook his head, "You have to keep Ms. Warner calm and safe."

" _I am!"_ Jo practically shouted into the phone. She crossed her arms over her chest while holding up the phone to her ear.

"Not if you're arguing with her," Eric bluntly pointed out.

 _And kissing her_ … _dammit_.

Jo blew out a breath then shoved a hand in her pants pocket. " _I-I have this under control… trust me…"_ She started to pace again.

Eric leaned back in his chair. "I have no other choice, Jo."

There was silence... eerie silence, and Jo could feel the weight of those words. She nodded. " _I won't let you down."_

Eric gave a half hearted smile at that. How many agents had said that phrase right before something happened, whether good or bad. He knew how the rhythm usually flowed under the circumstances. He had no choice but to trust her regardless. "Good."

He ended the call, then wrote down a few more items. He looked over the form, taking the time to go over his words carefully before putting his signature on it… and the final words: TRANSFER APPROVED.

* * *

"I've got something you need to see."

Agent Summers entered Agent Mendoza's office carrying a file.

"What?" Norm looked up from his monitor.

"Information that just might lead to some missing pieces." She took a seat on the corner of his desk.

Mendoza hiked an interested brow. "Shoot."

"I was looking up old reports of missing persons, going back about ten years ago." Summers opened the file taking out a paper.

Mendoza leaned back in his chair. "Yeah? What made you do that?"

She smiled. "Funny you should ask," she handed him the paper, "take a look at this."

Mendoza read the headline first: "Executive drowns in fishing accident," he crinkled a brow. "Daniel Winstead, son of Miles and Delores Winstead," he looked up. "He was Barry's brother?"

Summers nodded. "This happened five years ago."

Mendoza kept reading. "There was no body found... says there were no suspects."

Agent Summers sighed. "This was an early report, it says four people were on the boat, but doesn't identify three of them."

Mendoza stared at the picture of Daniel Winstead. "Hold on a minute. I've seen this guy before," he thought hard about that. It was recently.

Summers pursed her lips. "Now that we know Palmero was talking to Barry Winstead, I think a little backtracking on her would be just what the doctor ordered."

Mendoza agreed, "I also think a good digging on Daniel Winstead would be a better start."

Summers nodded. "Good idea. I'll get to work on that," she moved to the door. "Let's get the information to Eric soon, he's wanting to get us off this case."

Norm Mendoza watched her leave then turned to his monitor, clicking a few screens until he found the one he was looking for. He glanced at his watch. It was getting late. _Better make this quick._

* * *

The sun was beginning to fade a bit behind the tall buildings of the city. Jo had taken the opportunity to take Ace out for a walk. The park trail was sparse and she made strides through it with little stopping along the way.

Her body was drenched in sweat. She'd meant to jog, but running the trail seemed a better fit for her current temperament. She needed a good workout; and took the hills and curves with a vigor that pushed her along the winding steepness.

Ace had run straight to his water bowl upon returning to the apartment. Charlie had met her at the door on his way out to the pool hall – his cabby buddy, Merle, honked the horn for the fiftieth time.

"Hey Merle!" Charlie yelled.

"Huh?!"

"Honk it again and I'm rippin' ya' heart out!" Charlie said as he managed his way down the steps finally reaching the cab.

"Yeah, yeah, get in, the fellas are startin' up early tonight!" The short, gray haired man said.

Jo watched from the stoop as the two argued for a minute more, then the car drove off. She'd wondered just how the heck her father could manage to balance on crutches and hold a pool stick at the same time. He'd told her he managed just fine, then showed her all the money he'd won to boot.

The apartment was quiet; Ace had retired to his doggy bed to take a much needed nap. Jo strode over to the television, flipping through the channels then deciding to turn it off after finding nothing really interesting to watch.

She sighed. Her white tank top was sticking to her torso, the black spandex shorts not faring much better as her legs felt cold from the sweat drying on them.

Jo had moved to the kitchen to grab a bottle of ginger ale from the refrigerator when the doorbell rang. _Pop probably forgot something._ She made her way over, opening the door with a smirk.

"What did you forget this time?"

The expression she wore was one of honest surprise as her mind slowly registered who was standing at the door. Her face slowly melted into quiet disbelief, and she felt as though the wind had been knocked from her.

 _Blair_.

"Can I come in?"

She was still in her work attire. Jo noticed the small optimistic smile inching and shaping pink lips, the tresses that softly gathered on her shoulders, and her perfume - still aromatic. Jo tried to clamp down on the sudden current of... something... plucking a line so deep. She didn't need this; didn't need the way the executive was looking at her. With hope.

 _Oh Blair_ …

"What are you doing here?" It was said softly. Jo had meant to put more power behind the question; more authority.

Blair took in a breath. "I need to talk to you and you obviously don't want to talk to me." She'd gathered from the numerous messages she'd left Jo throughout the day… completely ignored.

Jo held her ground, her hand firmly on the door she was practically leaning on. "We can't do this." There. A little more confident this time. She meant it, even though the woman before her was unyieldingly shaking her head.

"We have to talk about what happened this morning." Bair had said it in such a rush. She caught herself, her dignity still intact.

"No we don't," Jo shook her head back. Her eyes, wide with barely held alarm in them, and Blair knew she needed to give her a reason to trust her, to see that... maybe they could at least acknowledge what was happening.

She looked down, suddenly aware of the other reason she stopped by. "You left this." She held up Jo's briefcase; her laptop was inside of it. She saw the sudden embarrassed look on the brunette's face. "Don't worry I didn't see anything, you'd already logged out," she confided.

Jo reached out to grab the briefcase, the door still firmly in place, but Blair held tight to it, pulling it back slightly. "Jo, please."

She had heard the passionate plea, and Jo nibbled her lip before yielding and opening the door letting Blair into her apartment. She took the case from her and set it on the floor.

Blair watched as Jo moved to stand in front of her; not allowing her further into the room. The evening shadows were overtaking the horizon, painting the room a twilight gray. An intense beam from the streetlight streamed in through the front room window illuminating the room and spotlighting Jo's form halfway down to her hips.

Blair noticed. She couldn't help but see how the muscles played in a taut dance all over Jo's body. Her shoulders were strong and her abdominal muscles were tensing with each breath: the tight fabric of her tank top highlighting firm breasts and her rapid breathing.

Blair licked her lips. "I don't know where to begin." She rubbed her hands together and gave a short laugh; her eyes drifting up to meet steely one's that held no hint of relenting.

"How about it was a mistake. It was my fault, I take full responsibility and I apologize." Jo stated firmly, then turned her head away.

She stared out into the room not focusing on anything. There was complete quiet for a long moment; then Jo could hear the faint steps Blair took toward her. She swallowed, then lowered her head.

"You kissed me."

It was barely a whisper, but the words had set their affect... a tense jaw clenching tight as Jo held in a breath, not daring to trust her voice just yet.

She paused. "It won't happen again."

Blair intensely studied Jo's profile as she continued to look straight ahead, unmoving. She closed her eyes briefly. "Why?"

Jo had to think about that, why indeed? She smirked, self depreciatively, not really knowing what to say. "You wouldn't shut up."

She heard the scoff, could tell Blair was throwing her an incredulous look. "Oh, so that's how you keep people quiet?" She put a hand on her hip. "You kiss them?"

Jo whipped her head around. "Look, there's nothing to discuss here, Blair!"

She'd meant for it to come across as menacing. Jo wanted to shout, scream, anything but deal with Blair's calm demeanor at the moment.

"Except for the fact that I didn't stop you," brown eyes held the ones in front of her until they dropped. "I didn't resist or push you away." She saw Jo look down, sorrowfully and felt a pang of sympathy - but it had to be said. "And that confuses you, doesn't it?"

"It doesn't matter." Jo shook her head, shifting her eyes all over the room, anywhere but to Blair, who patiently waited.

"Doesn't it?" Blair moved closer, so close she could feel the warmth of Jo's body and she responded to it - recognizing something stirring within her, very deep; it pulled at a cord that reverberated throughout her whole body.

Jo's voice was shaky and she whipped a hand through her hair. "We can't… _I_ can't…"

"I'm attracted to you." Blair had barely gotten the words out... they'd escaped before she could think about their impact; her heart beating wildly in her chest as a consequence.

Jo's mouth opened then shut quickly. She felt hopeless, weak, "I—"

"That scares you. It always has." Jo didn't move. "This isn't easy for me either, Jo. I'm scared too," Blair admitted carefully.

"You don't understand. I can't do this!" Jo punctuated her words then moved a few steps away from Blair.

Blair watched her with a wispy, sad smile. "Do what? Tell me how you feel?"

Jo sighed. She had no idea what to do with the bombardment of emotions suddenly mounting in her. "Please just drop it, please..." She watched as the blonde approached her again; more determined. She shook her head in warning.

Blair purposefully ignored it. "No, no, I don't care if it's the fear of losing you to some bad guy that's forcing me to face facts. I just… need to tell you how I feel."

"I can't hear this." Jo angled herself away, noticing Blair keep step with her every move.

"I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you and I never told you." She had said it so tenderly, and Jo looked right into brown eyes, imploring... what... _something I can't give her?_

"This is all my fault," Jo said in a tiny voice. She looked at Blair who was more sympathetic than she'd deserved.

Blair took a step closer; Jo had pinned herself against the couch, unable to move. She reached out, tentatively, her finger's barely grazing the fabric of Jo's tank top.

"Come here." Blair's fingertips started moving in a light pattern on the material.

Jo swallowed, her breathing became heavy as she fought against the rising urges that were overtaking her senses. "I think you should go." It would be her last defense.

"Before what? You kiss me again?" Blair's voice was light, teasing, yet shaky and full of nerves.

She shifted as Jo slowly turned her head; her eyes were heavy, weary with emotion as she turned to stand fully in front of Blair. It was no use. Blair brought her hands up to contact Jo's body, slowly sliding them up - acutely aware of green eyes watching her intently as she did.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt gentle finger tips under her chin, guiding it slowly, and Jo moved closer to dip her head gently, the warmth of her breath causing Blair's own to catch as the barest of touches brushed her lips, then another until, more firmly, the melting contact jolted a tie deeply within her.

Jo drew back, her eyes still closed, reveling in the scent of the woman, whose breath was warming her face. "Are you okay?" She said so very softly.

Blair's attempts at answering turned into breathless huffs, the air she finally regained allowing her to nod then. "I-I, w-we..." Her efforts to speak were met by a soft smile.

"Go slow…" Jo breathed, "neither one of us is used to this… let's… just... go slow..." she finally got out.

Blair nodded, a full smile on her face as her eyes roamed all over Jo's body. She took in the strong neck, the shoulders... the arms. She noticed a vein running from Jo's biceps down to her wrist and she lightly traced it. That earned her a small audible grunt. She smiled again, liking the sound, then looked into hooded eyes.

Jo gently snaked her arms around the waist she found so incredibly alluring. She tightened her arms around Blair as an onslaught of emotions overtook her for a moment, causing tears to well her eyes. _Sweet Jesus_. Blair felt incredible.

Blair's breath caught again as she buried her cheek and face in the skin under Jo's chin, hugging, holding on - a deep aching feeling exploding within her as she moaned slightly before letting out a shuddered breath.

Jo didn't want to analyze it, didn't want to do anything but stay with the feeling; in the moment. She hadn't meant for this to happen, hadn't planned it, but found herself helpless once Blair had appeared on her doorstep... had bared her heart...

It was the same feeling as two days ago, in the sunlight of Blair's office, when the shattering of barriers had begun. Nothing else mattered. All the time in the world they'd spent apart, fighting, arguing, ignoring... longing: came down to this moment...

She'd been all over the country, the world - never settling, never staying anywhere for long. A warm wave settled over her as arms tightened around her... grounding her.

Jo knew she had been craving this, and didn't deny it.

She held on, the two of them swaying in the middle of the floor in the silver light... she smiled.

 _I'm home_.

* * *

They enjoyed the silence, the warmth of holding each other. There were small tentative touches and occasional soft kisses as they got to know each other... used to the feel of each other. They had been sitting in the dark for a while, on the couch. Jo put her arm around Blair, with Blair's head resting on her shoulder.

Blair could only guess what time it was as she yawned, then began to slightly extract herself from Jo. Sitting up she gave her a smile before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I, um... I should probably go," she said softly.

Jo lifted a brow. "No, it's ..." she let out a huff. "Sorry I don't know what to say," she smiled nervously.

Blair nodded, looking down at their still entwined hands. "I didn't know what was going to happen when I came over here."

Jo watched her for a beat. "It's okay Blair," she moved a thumb, softly over Blair's hand.

"And I didn't think about how it would look," she looked up at Jo, seeing her head tilt in question.

"How it would _look_?"

"Now. With us..." she shrugged a little. "Working together."

Jo considered that, thinking. "So?"

Blair swallowed. "So? Jo if we get involved, it could be very messy. I mean..." she took in a breath. "If you want to stop...w-we can, um." Blair found a finger lightly placed on her lips as she looked into dancing green eyes.

"No," Jo smiled crookedly. "And I actually don't want to think about any of that right now... let's just..." she coaxed Blair to return to her embrace, wrapping an arm around her, "... enjoy the moment," she kissed her head, taking in the smell of blond tresses as she did.

"I like that," Blair sighed, then let a rakish smile consume her face. "Okay. I guess we've come to a mutual agreement on that... amongst other things."

Jo smiled. "Uh huh... I'm pretty sure we can agree to do that." _No questions asked_. She turned her head finding alluring lips there, giving them a quick peck, then two, before deepening the kiss.

Blair ended the kiss, smiling. She breathed in deep as Jo hugged her. "God this feels so weird," she'd said it with mirth, hearing the questioning grunt from Jo. "I mean we both know now that w-we -"

"Like each other?" Jo chuckled quietly.

"To put it mildly," Blair said teasingly. She began to draw soft circles on Jo's stomach, reveling in the slight ripples she was causing. "I've always thought you were cute, Jo."

Jo suddenly found herself blushing and laughed. "Cute, huh?"

Blair looked at Jo who was sporting a growing grin. "Uh, huh...well," she smiled giddily. "Irresistibly hot in a tomboy sort of way." She let out a laugh at the sudden, completely stunned look on Jo's face. _Have I struck you speechless?_

Before she could further embarrass herself by sputtering a defensive response, Jo let the flattering feeling of Blair's admission envelop her. She felt the need to be honest right back. "I uh... wanted to impress you..."

Blair lifted a brow. "Impress me?" she let a surprised smile shape her lips. "How? When?"

"What? You mean you couldn't tell?" Jo gave her a sly look. "It was pretty much every chance I got."

Blair blinked at her. "Give me an example."

Jo laughed then thought for a minute. "Okay... remember when we all got placed in the holding cell after that cop put us in there for dumping beer on him?"

"The Chuggalug," Blair threw her head back. "God, that was so long ago! We were just kids."

"Yeah well, remember the lady in there that wanted your watch?" Jo questioned.

"Mmm..." Blair nodded. "I believe you called her a blimp," she giggled at the thought. "I totally thought you were so brave to stand up to her," her voice became soft. "No one had ever done that for me before." Tender eyes traced the soft surface of Jo's face which had gone a deeper shade of red; humbled by Blair's words.

They shared a moment, remembering. It had been so long ago, but that moment had meant the world to Blair. She had felt complete awe that someone would risk their well being for her - and not ask for anything in return... her body, her money. It had been a strange feeling.

"I adored you for that," she said softly.

Jo shifted on the couch, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. It was too much and she decided to change the subject before she blurted out something her mouth and heart hadn't agreed to yet.

"I just knew you were going to marry rich and have two point five kids by now... what happened?"

"Reality," Blair said rolling her eyes. She looked at Jo, seeing an intent look, "When you left for California, I thought - okay, she's going to make something out of her life; and a part of me rooted for you."

"Hmm," Jo nodded. "And the other part?"

"Wanted to go with you," Blair admitted coyly.

Jo smiled at that then absorbed what Blair had confessed. She hadn't pressed her to explain her sexuality... didn't need to. She'd said enough. She smiled internally, letting her head rest on the back of the couch.

"Jo?"

"Hmm?" Jo turned her attention to the blonde.

"When did you start..." Blair paused, "liking me?" she shook her head slightly at that. _That sounds so second grade_.

Jo grinned. "You mean noticing you?" she said seeing Blair nod. "Well...I mean... right off the bat," she admitted.

Blair furrowed a brow. "Could you be more specific?"

Jo let out a laugh. _Should've known she'd want a play-by-play._ "Alright. Two weeks before I came to Eastland they sent a brochure in the mail, you know, for the prospective students; to welcome them and all... You were on the cover and I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

There was a small smile, and Blair flushed at the thought. True, she was never one to _not_ accentuate her own beauty - but still, and even better, she loved it when other people noticed... especially those she wanted to impress.

"I thought you were just a model, you know, someone they hired to make the school look more appealing..." Jo gave Blair an appreciative look. "I have to say, it certainly worked for me," she smiled.

"Really?" Blair was at a loss for words. _Wow_.

"Yeah. Then when I got to campus, I saw you walk into the cafeteria. When they told me that was where I needed to check in, I lost my cool, and spun out right before I could park my bike," Jo looked down, still a little embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

"I had no idea," Blair said softly.

Jo lifted their entwined hands, putting them on her lap. "Yeah, well I had no idea we'd be forced to live together either."

It had been quite a shock for all of them to be truthful. Four completely different personalities. Not to mention the growing attraction Jo had to deal with... _for so many years_.

Blair gave her a lazy smile. "I almost lost it when you said you wanted to leave Eastland," green eyes looked into hers. "I was glad you changed your mind."

Jo swallowed as she tried to formulate what she wanted to say. "So you could then torture me by dating every available guy at Bates?"

She saw the slow tongue in cheek expression that was shaping on Blair's face. _Perhaps feeling regretful? hmmm?_ Jo hiked a semi-serious brow at that. "What was that all about?"

Blair faced her head on, her voice taking on a low register. "I loved the look on your face when I brought home a new guy." That was met with an authentic glare. "You were so jealous." That diffused the glare, which turned into a self-conscious look.

"I was that obvious?" Jo said, almost incoherently.

Blair flicked her bangs. "Yes," she said resolutely. "However, I was quite confused when you wanted to marry Eddie Brennen." There. The ball had been successfully batted back into Jo's court; and Blair crossed one leg over the other, giving her a frank stare. _Care to explain?_

Jo cocked a snide grin, _that was me trying to keep up with the Joneses_ , she thought wistfully. "I was never going to marry him," she said calmly.

Blair bobbed her foot up and down for a second. "Are you sure about that? You made plans and everything."

A brown brow hiked teasingly. "Oh, are _we_ jealous now?" Jo challenged her. She chuckled, seeing the green-eyed monster leer she was getting. She decided to let Blair off the hook. "I wanted you to stop me," she said tenderly.

Blair stared at her. Lord knows she and everyone else had tried everything in their power to stop such a big mistake. She had felt so utterly helpless back then. She let out a surprised laugh. "Really?"

Jo weighed her response then gave a smile. "I'm still single aren't I?"

"That depends," Blair said, easing herself back into a snuggle with the brunette who hugged her.

"On?" Jo closed her eyes, inhaling Blair's scent. _Because she smells... so incredible_ , she breathed.

"What our future holds," Blair said breathlessly.

Jo stilled her movements. She could feel Blair's heartbeat, her breathing was steady, yet rapid. It matched her own.

Truth be told, she couldn't believe this was happening to her. Now. At this point in her life. She wondered, honestly, just what they were doing... where this was going. _No. Don't think about that. Not now. Just... live in the present._

"Let's just deal with the present and not think about that right now, okay?" Jo said. That was met with a slow nod.

She picked up the remote turning on the TV, and turned on her favorite screen saver... she'd often just sit and watch them sometimes, when she'd come in from work and just wanted a change of scenery. When the stress of the day would get to her.

She clicked on a starry night; the twinkling stars and moon making it look like they were really there - outside. She flicked through two more, finally settling on a beach scene. It was a sunny day, the waves crashing on the beach and seagulls singing as the flew around. She imagined them walking along the shore, peacefully, just the two of them.

"This is nice," Blair had put her head on Jo's shoulder, feeling an arm tighten around her. She sighed, hugging Jo. Live in the moment. "It's like we're there right now."

Jo hummed a reply as they got more comfortable. They stayed like that for a while; watching the screen – the waves of the ocean, the sand that blew gently around... the sounds of the wind as they relaxed in each other's arms as the night slipped away from them.

Blair yawned, looking at her watch before peeking at Jo who had fallen asleep. She smiled as she gently moved the hair back from Jo's face, causing her to twitch a little. "I should go," she whispered, nudging her.

Jo sat up adjusting her eyes, then turned on a side table lamp. She turned off the television. "Okay."

They'd walked to the door, hand in hand, stopping to hug and nuzzle each other. Jo walked Blair to her car, admiring the convertible.

Blair gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." she said.

Jo nodded, and watched as Blair got in the car, starting the motor. She put it in gear, then turned, seeing Jo watching her attentively. She blew her a kiss. "See you."

That earned her a smile. Blair drove away and Jo watched until she got out of sight, the smile fading from her face. She blew out a breath, then turned to go back inside. She glanced at the clock on the stove: twelve midnight.

Life goes on, and the world keeps turning... _yeah_.

 _Pop will be home soon_. Jo moved toward her room, thinking about the last few hours. She bit the inside of her lip as a giddy smile found its way to her face - for just a brief moment the world had indeed stopped turning and she and Blair were the only ones in it...for _just a few moments_ , Jo sighed.

She went to bed _just_ content with that.

* * *

"Another early meeting?" Jo skidded into the tenth floor conference room, coffee in hand as she joined Summers and Mendoza already sitting at the table. "Where is he?" she took a seat.

"On his way up," Summers replied not bothering to look up from her file.

"You want to give me a heads up to what this is all about?" Jo asked.

"Blowing the lid off this case," came the cool reply from the blue eyed agent. She scribbled a few notes down, smiling at the shocked look on Jo's face.

Mendoza took in Jo's appearance. There was something different about her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but… she seemed, calmer than usual. No. _Content, maybe?_

He furrowed his brow. "Where were you last night? I called you three times."

Jo shrugged. "Phone was off, I guess," She took a sip of coffee, aware of the scrutinizing eyes on her.

She'd done it on purpose earlier yesterday... especially after leaving Blair's office... after kissing her. Jo closed her eyes and took in a breath. _Blair_...

"Alright. What do we have, something good I hope." Eric had entered the room in his usual manner - rushed and in a hurry. All three agents snapped to attention as he sat down and readied himself.

"You guessed correctly," Agent Summers addressed him.

"Let's see it," Eric got comfortable.

Agent Mendoza had a monitor set up. He tapped on a device and entered a program. "First off, I apologize for not doing this earlier... would've saved a lot of time yesterday."

"What are you talking about?" Jo asked, watching as he clicked through different screens.

"This..." He found the screen he was looking for, bringing up the inside of Amanda Palmero's office. "... a sweep of Palmero's office I recorded while waiting for the files to download."

Jo crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Yeah, I was just in there remember? What's the scoop here?"

"The scoop is this. Take a look." Mendoza zoomed in and focused, panning to the top of Palmero's desk. He slowed it down.

"Wait, is that?" Jo turned her head sideways as Mendoza stopped, then panned over a small picture on the desk.

The picture had four people in it. Jo recognized David Warner and his brother Russell, along with Barry Winstead.

"Who's the guy to the left?" she asked.

Mendoza moved to pull a close-up of the man. "The name is Daniel Winstead. Twin brother to Barry Winstead."

That was met with silence as each agent made a mental note of the new information.

Agent Summers chimed in, reading from her report. "Agent Mendoza and I did some digging earlier. That picture was taken right before they all went sailing... right before he disappeared after going overboard during a boating accident five years ago." She looked up. "They never found a body."

"Mmm... no body found in the deep sea, not usual. Anyone charged?" Eric asked, frowning.

Summers shook her head negatively. "All of them were cleared. It was deemed an accident by the police. They closed the investigation."

"I have a question," Jo broke in. "What the hell is Palmero doing with a picture like this on her desk?!"

Agent Summers cleared her throat. "I just got back information that would pretty much clarify that, Agent Polniaczeck," she picked up another file, then flipped the papers to the beginning of her report.

"First off, to backtrack, Daniel Winstead used to work for a company by the name of Grico Graphics. It was a graphics company, long since been dissolved in 2003. He was there for about seven years. He met a young woman by the name of Mary Ann Bradford, an artist who also worked there. He had an affair with her a year after he was married to his wife."

"Figures," Jo interrupted, grumpily.

Summers continued. "Ms. Bradford got pregnant sometime during the winter of 1986. They produced a child at the latter part of the following year."

Jo scoffed. "So he was a cheating asshole. Big surprise," she added.

Summers smirked, agreeing. "We also got back a confirmation on the sex and name of the child," she handed a form to Eric.

"Girl, named Danielle Bradford," he read, then looked at agent Summers, slightly perplexed. "I'm not following."

Summers nodded. "Here's the tricky part. Ms. Bradford was suing Daniel Winstead for child support, only they weren't married," she took a peek around the table, no one had anything to say to that. "She was trying to blackmail him. He wanted nothing to do with his daughter," she supplied.

"Shame," Jo said under her breath.

Agent Summers flipped to the back page of her report. "I'll cut to the chase. Ms. Bradford was found dead in her Florida home five months after giving birth. The police report says her home was broken into, vandalized. She was shot once in the head."

"Damn," Mendoza rubbed his chin, shaking his head.

"The baby was taken into child protection and a young couple adopted her a few month's later," Summers finished reading from her file.

She didn't need any prodding. The looks on every agents face asked the same question. "The adoptive parents were Harold and Martha Palmero."

One more piece had just fallen into place. One more connection.

"So Palmero's a Winstead," Jo stated flatly.

"By blood," Eric reminded.

"She knows who her father was," Mendoza supplied.

Eric grunted at all of that. "My question is, does Miles know she's his granddaughter?"

"Well, Barry Winstead certainly does," Jo said.

"Let's bring him in," Eric said. Everyone got up from the table. The information was a brand new starting point for them, with Barry Winstead at the front of the suspect list.

They all moved to the door. "Good job Mendoza, Summers," Eric said as the two agents left the room. He turned his attention to Jo who was standing still, obviously thinking about something significant. "I've seen that look before," he said suspiciously.

She faced Eric. "We need to bring in Palmero," she said then picked up her coffee cup, finishing it.

"On what charges?" Eric asked. He didn't see where she was going with this. All the new information did was link Palmero with Winstead, by blood, not in conspiracy.

"Conspiring with Barry Winstead," Jo said, a resolute look on her face.

 _Too quick on this one, Jo_. "Not enough evidence," he glanced at her.

"What do you mean Eric?! She's working with Winstead and he almost took me out!"

"That doesn't mean anything if she wasn't in the car. We know she's working with him to hide something and that's where we'll close the case when we find out what that is." He saw a hard eye roll at that. "We can't charge her with anything, Agent. And spying on her could even land us in hot water."

"Oh, c'mon!" Jo shouted. "She's obviously out to get me!"

Eric looked at Jo with a bit of awe. "You really have a bug up your ass about her, don't you?"

"Look, she's a bad influence on Blair, I don't want her anywhere near her," Jo pointed at him, hoping to get her point across.

Eric observed her. She was fidgety and nervous. He watched as she started to leave. "Jo..."

"You know what? I'm going to make it a priority to make sure she stays out of Blair's life," Jo said with finality as Eric approached her.

"Jo?" Eric raised his voice again, this time getting her attention. Puzzled green eyes tracked to his. "I need you to come to my office, so we can talk privately," he finished.

"Okay, when?" Jo threw her coffee cup in a nearby trash can.

"Now," Eric reiterated, then moved past her to leave the room.

Jo watched as he left. With the new information, they were so close to ending the case _..._ and she had to admit, nailing Palmero would be a personal pleasure.

She took down a few personal notes about the matter, then made her way to the elevator; luckily it was empty and she had a few minutes to herself. Closing her eyes she leaned back against the back wall, a slight smile edging her face as brown eyes and soft lips came to mind. She let it…let the feeling of last night linger a bit.

The ding of the elevator knocked her back into the present as the doors slid open. She shook her head, still with a smile on her lips as she rounded the corner to Eric's office.

"Everything okay?" Jo asked as she entered the office. Eric was standing at his window, his back to her.

"I'll let you be the judge of that," he faced his top agent. "Have a seat."

Jo nodded then sat down. "Can we make this quick? I need to get over to Warner and..." she halted, noticing Eric's bleak manner. "What?" She turned her eyes sideways, watching as Agent Nelson took a seat on the edge of his desk. He rubbed the side of his face before meeting her eyes.

"This will be your last day on assignment for Warner Textiles Corporation."

He had said it so calmly, and Jo paused, not quite believing she'd heard him correctly. "Wh-what are you talking about?" That was met with silence... _he's serious_. "Eric this case is far from over, I-"

"You're off the case, Agent."

Jo frowned, taking in a breath. "I don't understand."

Eric gave her a cold stare. "I said I'm terminating your involvement, Agent Polniaczek."

Jo abruptly stood up from her chair, the legs scraping the linoleum floor. "But why? Eric, c'mon, we're _this_ close to nailing Winstead!" she gestured as she moved closer.

Eric shook his head. "My minds made up."

"You mind telling me why now? Huh?!" Jo was within inches from her superior, her face tight with frustration.

Eric waited a few beats, then, "You got too close to your client."

Those were not the words he'd ever thought he would be saying out loud, especially to Jo. He'd thought she would eventually get her act together and finish the case, then move on. Instead he found his top agent in limbo... a small feeling of personal failure touched him as he saw Jo searching for a way to address her dilemma.

"I-" She swallowed then shook her head.

"I've been observing you, Agent," Eric cleared his throat. "It was my call. Believe me I didn't want to do it, but..."

"But what?!" Eric could see the resentment in Jo's eyes. They turned from anger to almost panic in an instant. "You can't do this to me!" she said with a low growl.

"Except _I_ didn't do this, Jo," Eric shot right back.

Jo's breathing became rapid as she tried to understand where Eric was going with this. "What are you talking about?!"

"You!" A harsh finger pointed at her. "You were supposed to do your job, not get involved, not get-"

"I AM doing my job!" Jo yelled.

They were face to face now. "Dammit, Eric! We are this close to closing this thing!" she said angrily.

"Except you won't be here," Eric said. He felt the need to get the point across more stringently.

Jo stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Eric pursed his lips. "I assessed you, Agent. Once you put in a request for transfer, I assessed your behavior. That's _my_ job."

Jo bit her lip. "T-that's not-" _Damn_.

She had juggled whether or not it was a good idea in the first place... to put in for a transfer. It was impulsive, reckless... she'd felt hopeless.

... and then last night happened.

"It was enough for me to make a judgment call," Eric continued, sternly.

 _Judgment call_? Jo's brow's knit for a second. "What did you do?!"

It had to be driven home. The severity of the situation they were in. The necessity of an agent to do their sworn duty at all costs. "As of 5 p.m. this afternoon you will be on assignment overseas."

There was a moment of stunned silence as Jo registered the impact of what he was saying. "Eric... I can't...I..."

 _Yeah_. Heard it before. Many times. How many agents had gotten personally involved to their own detriment, Eric surmised. Mendoza being the most recent. He'd been used to threats of leaving; even the one's toward him personally. He knew the signs, and Jo was no different.

"That's exactly why I'm moving you out, Jo."

"You CAN'T do this!" Eye's blazing, Jo was back in Eric's face.

"I did," he stood his ground.

Jo stared at him. "Please, Eric..." It was said through breathless pants, desperation edged her voice.

 _I am sorry_. "It's for the best, Jo... I warned you."

"Please." Jo's eyes were pleading as she saw the slow shake of Eric's head.

She scowled at him, tears forming in her eyes as she moved across the room, bumping into the chair, she kicked it, then intertwined her hands in her hair, leaving them there.

"Agent handbook number 162... what does it say, Agent Polniaczeck?"

Jo squeezed her eyes shut. She knew what he was trying to do. _I hate you for this...so much_. "Um... personal involvement with an...um... a client will immediately result in approved transfer or..."

"Termination." Eric interrupted. "I can't afford to lose you, Jo. Not for this."

Jo looked up at the ceiling, _Oh God_...

Eric continued. "You swore to-"

"I know what I swore to!" Jo walked back up to him, coming within inches. "How many times are you gonna' tell me?! I'm sick to death of hearing it, Eric!"

He watched as she moved to pace the floor, hands on her hips. Eric felt the need to drive his point home. "Then I guess you'll have no trouble transitioning to your new assignment."

Jo stopped cold at the words. She looked down seeing Eric's metal trashcan and kicked it several times - denting it.

Eric watched her, let her get it out of her system as her breathing became harsh. "Jo..."

Jo made her way back over to him, sticking a finger in his face, her voice at a low pitch. " **Fuck you**...Okay?!" she said through clenched teeth.

Their eyes held for a short moment before Jo tore hers away, the anger still rippling off of her. It would be a few minutes before she'd calm down. Eric Nelson was a patient man... had to be in his line of work. He settled into his chair, leaning back and watched as Jo got herself together. "Do you need some water? Or more time to..."

"I'm fine!" Jo shouted from across the room, her eyes glaring.

Eric nodded, drumming his fingers on the desktop. E _nough is enough_. "I need you to get yourself together, Agent," he said, watching her.

"I am together!" Jo sat down with a huff. She leaned forward, legs spread - resting her elbows on her thighs then looked around the office... anywhere but at Eric, as hot tears made their way down her cheeks. She wiped an angry hand at them, brushing them away.

"Good," Eric crossed his fingers together on the desk. "I have to brief you on your next assignment."

That was met with silence. A scowl was plastered on Jo's face as her eyebrows bent in anger. Eric opened his top drawer retrieving a file. He took one more peek at Jo before reading it.

"Gragon Islands. Population 2.4 million. Located in the mid pacific region. Ruling Empress consort is Torana Milkino. Two high ranking United States Navy officials will be joining our overseas ambassador's already stationed there. The meeting will take place two days from now, should be friendly and should result in an embargo agreement for surrounding competitors."

Eric looked up seeing Jo hadn't moved. "Questions?"

Jo drew her lips up in disgust. "What is my assignment?" she said without looking up.

"Well, first off, you and three other agents will be replacing the crew we have over there now," Eric informed.

Jo sniffed at that. "How long have they been over there?"

"Two years, Agent. They were able to prevent a major crisis from happening," Eric pointed out.

That got her attention. Jo looked up. "To what degree?"

"Mines," Eric said simply. "Four of them planted by pirate traders. These guys were able to get a hold of C4, and obviously knew what they were doing to some extent."

"Christ." Jo said under her breath.

"Yeah," Eric nodded. "Our guys were able find and dismantle three of them."

"What was the reason for planting them in the first place?" Jo asked agitatedly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Gold and uranium. They are threatening them to give up substantial amounts of each. Because the Gragon Island's are protected through our allied forces, it's up to us to inforce a strict embargo on the territorial waters within the region."

Jo settled back in her chair in thought. "How intricate are these mines?"

Eric leaned forward. "Very sophisticated. However, the last one is particularly elusive. That's why we need you over there, Jo. Once we find it, the only way to dismantle the thing is through a series of numerical sequences."

Jo shook her head, eyeing Eric, who was looking at her seriously. "I don't like the way you're looking at me right now."

"One wrong sequence and millions of lives could be lost," he saw Jo drag a hand through her hair. "Jo you're trained for this."

Jo blew out a breath, then squinted at Eric. "Way to _not_ put a heap of pressure on me."

"This is your specialty, Agent," Eric pointed out, then looked down at the papers. "These mines have a timer on them. After the last one is diffused, it usually activates the next one to start counting down in about four days."

Jo hesitated asking the obvious question, but did anyway, tapping her leg nervously. "So when was the last one diffused?"

Eric scanned the paper finding the information. "Today, Agent," Eric read cautiously.

 _Holy..._ Jo's mouth opened in disbelief. She shook her head feeling slightly stunned.

"That's why I'm sending you over," Eric looked up, gaining Jo's attention, "I need you to get your things in order, make your arrangements." He put the papers down. "You know what you have to do at Warner."

"Just how long do you think this is going to take?" Jo asked, standing up. She moved toward Eric.

"Weeks, maybe," Eric shrugged. "Could be anywhere from a few months to a couple of years. We have to make sure the islands are clean." He saw Jo blink several times at that.

He took out another envelope, opening it before empting the contents. "Here's your security clearance badge and new burner phone. There'll be a packet for you on the plane for your food, travel and living accommodations. Your private jet leaves at 5 p.m. sharp. Today."

Jo collected the items in her hand, staring at them. Eric watched her with concern. "Hey, are you alright?"

Jo stayed silent for a long while before looking her superior in the eye. Her face held a somber expression. "No."

She took in a breath after Eric nodded his head carefully.

"But I will be..." she gave him one last glance before turning and heading for her office.

* * *

 **I cannot express how grateful I am for your kind reviews and messages. I am truly humbled. I'm hoping to answer the many questions and speculations in the upcoming chapter's as well. Thanks for hanging in there with me! You guy's rock...**


	13. Chapter 13

**8:45 a.m.**

"Is there something going on I need to know about?"

After a few moments of complete silence, David had peeked around his newspaper to see Blair engrossed in her phone. She hadn't touched her breakfast.

"I'm sorry, what, Daddy?" Blair looked up after sending a text.

David saw the expression his daughter often wore when she was enamored with something… or someone. "You keep glancing at your phone, is there something going on?" he asked.

"N-no. I'm just, um…" Blair tapped the device a few times then set it on the table, "Have you seen Barry?"

David turned a page of his newspaper, "Winstead? No. Why?"

"He was supposed to sit in on the Xteco meeting yesterday. I haven't been able to get in touch with him." Blair looked down at her plate. She had ordered her usual: ham and eggs. She picked up a piece of toast and bit into it.

"I haven't seen him for a couple of days," David watched as his daughter glanced at her phone, again. "How's the presentation going?"

Blair shrugged, "It's going, but we need his input before we can finalize anything going forward."

"Did you check with Emily?" David queried.

"She's been so busy with the Xteco advertising department, she's barely had time to even meet with me," Blair took a sip of coffee. She picked up her phone again, typing in a few words.

"Hey."

"Hmm?" Blair looked up seeing her father had folded his paper and sat it down on the table.

David cleared his throat. "I know you're anxious about this presentation, but trust me, as long as you can show them you can make the company money, you'll be fine."

Blair regarded her father for a moment. Things had been going very well, and she wanted to impress the board rather than offer what was expected. "I want to do more than that, Daddy."

David frowned. "What for? That's all they care about," a little chuckle, "You know how the game is played." He picked up his orange juice.

"I'm aware, but perhaps we could expand our divisions a bit to ensure future profits," Blair tried to get her point across.

David eyed her, "We've tried that before. Be careful not to over saturate the market. Russell tried the same thing about three years ago and it was a disaster, he even tried to…get… Blair?"

Blair looked up, having caught the tail end. "Hmm? Uncle Russell tried what?"

David sat back and gave her an annoyed look. "You know I'm beginning to think you're slightly distracted by something... or someone?"

Blair gingerly put her phone down. "Daddy…" she flashed a look of warning; then took another bite of toast.

"What? I'm merely observing." David said, an incredulous smile edging his face.

"It's not what you think." Blair said as she looked around the atrium. Various people were busily trying to reach their destinations. The café was quite crowded, as well.

"So who is it this time?" David asked, seeing a deep blush start to creep up his daughter's neck and face. "What's his name?"

Blair swallowed, "No one."

"No one?" David let a disbelieving expression cross his face.

"It's just business," Blair said. She lowered her eyes to her plate, staring at it. She took in a breath then looked up directly at her father who was watching her intently.

"Okay. Well… good." he said, nodding slowly.

 _Leave it alone, Daddy_. "What?" Blair exhaled.

David shifted in his chair, getting comfortable. Blair knew what that meant. He was about to interject something she didn't want to hear.

"I had a pretty good golf game yesterday with the president of Velespar Industries."

Blair did an internal eye roll. "That's nice," she forked some eggs into her mouth, only to almost spit them out. They had turned cold and hard.

"And his son." David finished, watching brown eyes slowly lift to his at the news. "Just so happens his son is vice president of operations and around your age," he informed.

"Daddy…" Blair managed to swallow, her voice full of admonition. She wiped her mouth.

"Nice guy by the way," David summarized; feeling proud of himself for slipping that in.

Blair threw her napkin on her plate. "I see."

"Look, Blair. I don't usually get involved with your personal life…" David interjected.

"Good, let's keep it that way," Blair sunk down a bit in her chair.

David watched her. She looked closed off. "You're still upset about your mother and my reaction to your divorce," he related.

"No, I'm completely over it. And you promised you'd lay off of that," Blair assertively reminded him.

"And I've kept my promise," David said, a brow lifting.

 _Until now_. "Good then there's nothing to discuss." Blair grabbed her phone again, checking her messages.

"Actually there is," David said.

"I don't want to hear it." Manicured fingers typed in a response.

"Then I'll just say this," David pushed his plate to the side, "You're a Warner. You come from certain standards, Blair."

Blair peeked a look at him, "Is that a nice way of saying I shouldn't stray too far off the pedestal?"

David's eyes steeled, "It's my way of saying, when you pursue another potential suitor, he needs to pass muster."

Blair let out a sarcastic laugh. "You mean _your_ approval?" Good grief, she knew she would never achieve that no matter how hard she'd tried.

"Societies approval, Blair," David grumbled. "Need I remind you, you are under the microscope now. More than ever." He punched the table top with his finger, "you are highly sought after and once again very eligible at this time in your life. Tread lightly and don't associate with the wrong people."

There. He'd said it.

And it wasn't like she hadn't heard it every single day since she was old enough to date. Blair knew what he'd meant. She'd bought into it for most of her life.

"You mean people you consider beneath _you_ ," she stated with a tone of antipathy.

David shook his head. "No, Blair. You can have acquaintances, but the guy you choose as your next suitor…well."

"You don't have to explain, Daddy," she gave him a condescending smile. "But you know what?" she leaned forward, eye to eye.

"What?" David hiked a brow.

"Sometimes things just don't work out that way."

They held each other's stare for a second before Blair tilted her head giving a tiny smile, then went back to typing.

It was a dismissive gesture, David had gathered; but he was no dummy. He knew his daughter was not one to always stick to the family script. A part of him admired her for that. But this was family. And the business of family came before all else if you were a Warner.

There was no room for anything else.

"Blair, you and I both know there are too many obstacles to overcome. Especially for a woman of your position."

Blair glanced back up. Her father was never one to mince words. She knew what he'd meant: Don't go off script. _Oh, Daddy. If you only knew_.

"My position has nothing to do with who I choose to be with," she shot back.

"How so?" David had garnered her attention, "Your being president is a noteworthy endeavor for our family. Who you choose to be at your side has to be someone trustworthy and comparable."

"You mean rich and well connected?" A knowing sneer, "I have yet to meet anyone that would be suitable enough to satisfy you, Daddy." Blair finished the last of her coffee.

David paused, then gave a reluctant nod to that. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he'd often felt no one was good enough for his… _princess_.

"You're an heiress, Blair," He finally stated, firmly.

Blair pursed her lips. _Took him long enough to get to the point_. "I also have a trust, shall we throw that into the fire while we're at it?"

David wore a stoic expression, "you know the rules of the game."

Blair quirked her mouth at that. She was aware of the _rules_ , but since when did that stop a Warner from breaking them? After all, that's why they were made.

David cleared his throat. "You'll be thirty soon."

God she hated that. The reminder. "Are you going to rub that in from now until my thirtieth birthday?" Blair said angrily.

"I'm just reminding you of your duty," David eyed her squarely.

"My duty." Blair repeated with dismay. _Terrific_.

"Do not disappoint, Blair." David squinted harshly at her. It wasn't a warning so much as a direct command.

Sometimes the burden of being rich and high profile meant a heavy price to pay if you didn't do what was expected of you. Blair had weighed her options long ago… especially after divorcing Cliff. If there was one thing being around Jo had taught her, it was to rise to the occasion; do what wasn't expected of you and be bold enough to stand by it.

"And what if I do disappoint? Huh, Daddy?" she saw him bristle slightly at her words, "what if I'm not married by the time I'm thirty?"

David's facial expression gave nothing away. He had suspected this was the current Blair had been riding on as of late: one of defiance. He'd began piecing together his assumptions the day they'd confronted her about divorcing Cliff; and now _this_ turn of events.

"I think you know the answer to that," he stated simply; gauging her reaction, which was one of extreme irritation to say the least.

Blair took in a breath, gathering what she wanted to say. "I hope in time you will see things in a different light." She gathered her briefcase and stood. "I just hope you can still love me for what I decide is best for me."

David watched as she left the atrium without so much as a glance backward.

* * *

 **11:00 a.m.**

It just goes to show - sometimes when things don't quite go right, it's best to escape from it all with someone or something that's always reliable, mostly available, and never second guessing or undermining you.

Jo slowed the Harley and switched to toggle as she made a turn onto the highway. The warm breeze whipped through hair that had escaped from under her helmet. She was headed east toward the shore. The weather was cooperating for the moment, as the partly cloudy day shared itself with a steady wind and high humidity.

She'd spent the first few morning hours texting Blair. She couldn't help it. They'd kept things light – their banter mostly consisting of compliments and accolades. She smiled as they had to stop around 9 a.m. as Blair had to get to work and secretly texting would just be a bad look for the president of Warner Textiles.

She adjusted the herbal pack on her side, making sure it stayed secure under her jeans waistband. Mrs. De Palma had said to keep it on her wound at all times; and it was working as the gash had closed completely and was more than half healed. It barely hurt anymore, unless she did something strenuous. Jo made another turn; she knew she hadn't been cleared to ride… far from it, but she felt an overwhelming need to today; before she couldn't for God knows how long.

She pushed on for another few miles, riding along the shore line with a steady speed. She'd thought about the past twenty-four hours, letting it consume her and completely confuse her; and yet she accepted the reality of it with more than a bit of trepidation.

She slowed as she reached the shore. The waves were steadily beating the surf as a few people milled about, walking up and down the beach.

Parking her bike, she made her way past the pier and to a clearing on the beach. The constant breeze carried a mist that smelled salty. The incoming spray from the waves doused her a bit, but she didn't mind, as it helped to clear her head.

She sat on a semi-dry spot, overlooking the ocean. Picking up a shell, she examined it, then threw it into the waves. She'd turned the scenario over and over in her mind; trying to think of a way… some kind of way to, at least, ameliorate her impossible position.

There was no way out, she'd deduced. Eric had said she was the _only_ hope of stabilizing the situation in Gragon… 2.4 million people were counting on her and they didn't even have a clue.

Jo took in a breath and closed her eyes. Blair would just have to understand. If they went forward with this it could mean trouble for both of them. They had at least agreed to not to talk about the future last night. Still, Jo felt the nagging realization of reality angling to tap her on the shoulder as a reminder of its insistent presence.

Her mind's eye had seen the reality. How difficult and possibly painful could things get for both of them? And what about the disruption to her private and Blair's very open and transparent lives. Would Blair be willing to give up practically everything she'd been groomed to live by and for?

 _Blair…_

Jo pushed back her hair as a sudden gust of wind blew it forward on her face _. What am I doing_? She cracked a distressed grimace as she twisted her tresses into a loose ponytail. She'd been so occupied with her assignments, so busy chasing leads and following clues, that it never really occurred to her the pure loneliness of it all.

Until now.

She shook her head. _I could just tell her it was a mistake, we took things too far_.

Except we didn't. We both wanted it. I was tired of keeping it all to myself. "God, get a grip Polniaczek, you're still lying to her!" Jo yelled into the wind. A sudden pain in her chest caught her off guard and she gripped her shirt feeling the wild beating under her palm.

Jo bit back the barrage of tears that threatened to fall as she steadied herself. After a few moments she stood, then wiped off her jeans, her booted feet quietly carrying her back to her bike. She snapped her helmet in place and revved the motor.

 _You are an agent of the United States, your sworn duty is to protect the people of this nation… at all costs_ – she was constantly reminding herself. She pulled out of the parking lot and waited for a chance to turn onto the main highway. _I'll just have to explain... She'll have to understand_.

Unless... Jo took in a breath. _Unless she can give me a reason to go_ …

Booted feet lifted as the Harley turned onto the highway; settling into a steady speed, Jo made her way back to the city – her heart heavier than she'd ever remembered.

* * *

Jo took a cab back to her apartment. She had parked her motorcycle at JTI's secure parking for employees. Quite often many of the agent's vehicles were locked in the private lot. Especially when they went out of the country for long periods of time.

Jo tipped the cabby then started to make her way up the steps to her apartment.

"You sad."

The voice had come from around the corner, and Jo halted as she watched Mrs. De Palma approach her. She was carrying her garden rake.

Jo drew a hand through her hair, giving her a weak smile. "I'm fine."

"You not fine," De Palma shook her rake, "you sad." She insisted. She came up close to Jo, looking her in the eyes. "… have sorrow."

Jo sighed. _How does she do that?_ "Just having a bad day is all, Mrs. De Palma."

Meo watched as Jo lowered her head. She reached out and lifted her chin, observing her. She let her hand drop. "Matter of the heart."

Jo blinked, not saying anything. She took in a wavering breath.

Meo nodded making up her mind, "I have herb," She said then turned to go to her herbal garden beside the house.

Jo watched her curiously as she bent over and appeared to cut and pull a few plants from a shrub. She reached into her pocket and took out a small plastic baggie and filled it with the plant before returning to her.

"Here." She shoved the bag at Jo, who grabbed it curiously.

She looked down at it, "I'm okay, really."

"No." Meo shook her head. "You boil herb and drink," she explained, "it clear head." She pointed to Jo's head, then slid her hand down to her chest, "and heart."

Jo smiled sadly with a whimsical expression. It was indeed curious, that the head often had no clue how to deal with matters of the heart, as the heart always worked independently. She slowly regarded Meo, inclining her head. "Thank you," she said softly; her eyes were glassy with emotion and Meo gave her a curt nod back.

"Okay, goodbye," she said, turning and making her way back to her garden.

Jo watched her for a moment, gaining her voice. "Mrs. De Palma?"

Meo looked up from her raking, "Yea?"

Jo sported a lopsided smile, "No. Goodbye. I'll see you later," she said.

Meo stood still for a moment, then, "Later, okay." She turned again and continued raking her weeds.

Jo let a laugh escape her before making her way up the steps. She entered her apartment to find Charlie in his usual position - on the couch flipping through the channels.

He watched as she entered the apartment. "Hey what ya' doin' back here so early?"

"I um… " Jo eyed the television. It was up too loud. "Pop, would you turn that down for a minute, Please?"

Charlie only took it down a couple of notches. "What's the matta'?"

"I need you to tell you something important," Jo said.

Charlie rolled his head back on the couch, "Aw, crap. Whenever somebody starts off with that it's never good."

"Would you just turn the TV off for a minute?" she grabbed the remote from his hand and turned it off.

Charlie could see she meant business. "What's up?"

"I'm leaving."

That was met with a confused look, "Wha'… you just got here," he pointed out.

"No, I'm _leaving_ , Pop. New York…" she said sternly, "On assignment, for the company."

 _Oh._ "So soon?"

"Yeah," Jo said more solemnly.

"Oh." Charlie scratched the back of his head, "how long you gonna be gone for?"

"I don't know." It was an honest answer.

Charlie examined his daughter, she looked distressed. He remembered when she was a little girl and she didn't want to do something, her stiff body language would always give her away – even if her mouth said the opposite.

"You don't know? C'mon, Jo," he saw her sigh then look around the room. "You wanna' try and give me a ball park idea here?"

A shrug, "It could be anywhere from a few weeks to a couple years," _Yeah_ , she saw her father's eyebrows rise at that.

Charlie leaned forward. "Geeze Louise! That's one hell of a spread. What kinda' job is this?"

"I'm teaching a computer class… overseas," came the ready-made answer.

"Oh. Overseas… huh." That was unexpected to say the least. Charlie rubbed his chin.

There was a long silence as they both absorbed the reality of what was happening… and changing.

"I want you to know you can stay here as long as you need… until I get back," Jo felt the need to reassure her father.

"Oh, no," Charlie shook his head and pointed at her, "I'm gonna pay my fair share."

Jo cracked a smile. A feeling of appreciation floated through her. She was glad her father was here, with her, at this time in her life. She had missed him being in her around when he was in prison, or on the road; and that had indeed affected her… she knew that… but more than anything, right now, in this moment, she was grateful for his ultimate support.

"That's fine, Pop," she sat on the arm of the sofa and patted his shoulder, rubbing it affectionately, "Actually knowing you'll be here while I'm gone makes me feel better."

Charlie smiled, "Yeah, well… until I get this thing off and hit the road again," he lifted his casted foot off the coffee table.

"You still thinking about going back?" Jo had thought he'd be tired of truck driving by now; and possibly looking for something more close to home.

"Not really, but I can't find a job doin' anything else, so until then…" Charlie thought, then snapped his fingers, "Hey, what about Ace?"

"I was going to ask Mom if she can take care of him. Especially if you're back on the road." Jo said.

Charlie waved that off, "Nah, I'll look after the lil' horny runt. If I go back on the road I'll have Rose look after him, don't worry."

Jo felt a sense of comfort at that. "Thanks, I think he's kind of fond of you too, Pop."

Charlie gave his daughter a playful shove. "You know she's doin' pretty good with that restaurant gig."

It wasn't often Charlie brought up his ex wife, but when he did, Jo couldn't help but feel that old familiar spark… one of hope that, maybe, someday…

… _anyway_ …

She stood then started to make her way to the bedroom. "Well… I better go pack."

"When you leavin'?" Charlie yelled across the room.

Jo stopped then turned around. She had been waiting for that question. "Today." She heard her father grunt as he got to his feet, grabbing his crutches - he ambled his way over to her.

"Today?! Jo that's no time for… we just…" Charlie trailed off. They'd just settled in for a few weeks, now things were going haywire again.

Jo regarded her father, "I know Pop, but it is what it is." She held steadfast to that, though it pained her to.

"Yeah…" Charlie agreed, gruffly.

"They're going to be accommodating me with housing and other stuff," she informed him.

Charlie smirked, then grunted. "That a fancy way of sayin' they're puttin' you up for free over there?"

"Yeah,.." she gave him a tight grin, "I guess it is."

Charlie adjusted his crutches to a more comfortable stance. "So, uh… where is this place they're sendin' you to, anyway?"

"Some… place," Jo shrugged, "an island. I forget the name," she lied, "I'll contact you once I get there." That part wasn't a lie.

Charlie had been side eyeing her, nodding a couple of times, "Uh huh, Okay… " He smiled. "Hey whattaya' know, just like you're ole man, huh? On the road," he said proudly; softly backhanding her on the stomach.

Jo laughed, "Yeah."

They stood there smiling at one another, letting a few moments pass; then soberly regarded each other for a second before Jo hugged Charlie. He stiffened, then did his best to wrap an arm around her.

She released him, stepping back, "I'm, um, going to go pack up a few things," she motioned toward her bedroom.

"Yeah. Okay, you do that," Charlie's smile wavered.

He watched her leave, closing the door behind her. He ambled over to the kitchen, getting a beer out of the refrigerator and popped the can open. Taking a long drink, he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, and leaned back against the counter.

 _Why do I feel like she ain't tellin' me everything_.

* * *

 **2:03 p.m.**

The ride up was nerve racking enough without the cheesy music. Whose idea was it to have elevator travel music anyway?

Jo was done mulling over the circumstances, her ride over was gloomy to say the least. Her emotional defenses were worn out and quite frankly she felt numb… she needed to be, to get through this, she gathered. She pulled at her suit jacket sleeves then smoothed out her hair before the doors could slide open.

Upon entering the lobby she glanced down the hall toward Barry Winstead's office door _. I'm still on the case for three more hours._ She reluctantly tapped the back of her ear. "Test."

 _"Here."_

"I'm at Warner." Jo carefully glanced up at the security camera in the lobby.

 _"You know what you have to do."_

"I'm going to see if Winstead made it in, first," Jo purposefully interjected.

Eric had to think about that for a second. " _Okay,"_

He listened closely and heard Jo knock on Barry Winstead's office door a couple of times – getting no answer.

"He's not here," Jo concluded. She checked her watch.

 _"Did you check with security?"_

Jo scoffed at that. "You'll have to excuse me if something more important was on my mind," she snapped. She had no patience for Eric today, and he knew to back off and give her space.

"I understand," he said quietly. That was met with silence. "Look, Jo, I…"

"Save it," she tapped him off then let out a breath, turning as she set her sights toward Blair's office.

She'd thought about just walking in, her hand on the doorknob… it was shaking and she balled her fist, trying to calm her nerves. Taking in a huge breath, she tapped on the door _. God, just give me a reason, Blair._

The door opened and Blair let a pleasantly surprised look grace her face. "Hi," she sported a smile that was… very glad to see Jo.

Jo couldn't help but smile in return, her green eyes twinkling at the sight of the blonde before her. Blair was dressed in a dark skirt with a white silk blouse. Her hair was slightly mussed…she looked… sexy. "Hi."

Blair gave the woman in front of her a quick up and down before gesturing for her to enter the office. "Um… Can I get you something?" she walked over to the drink cart and retrieved two glasses; pouring herself a club soda.

Jo shook her head, "No. Thank you." She took in a breath, "I need to talk to you, Blair."

Blair put her glass down after taking a drink. She walked over to Jo. "Okay. What about?" Blair took a few more steps then held up a hand. "Wait."

Jo watched as the executive came closer with her arms opened. She smiled; she couldn't help herself as her arms went around the blonde; feeling herself melt at the contact. She heard a soft hum, then gave Blair one last squeeze before stepping out of the embrace.

Blair smiled then blushed, flicking the hair from her face. "I just felt like doing that. I know it feels a little awkward… I mean, here in the office," she laughed a little, "It's not like we're completely alone."

Jo gave her a sideways smile. Blair was cute when she was flustered. "Its okay, Blair."

A flash of white then Blair licked her lips. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Jo took in a breath _. Here goes_. "The capstone."

Blair brightened. "How's that going?"

"I'm finished," Jo informed.

Blair crossed her arms over her chest. "Really? That was fast. I thought…"

"I have all the information I need." Jo supplied. "We'll have the final copy of the test questions sent to you for review then we'll send them to the department of education for submission. They'll contact each university that wants to adapt the program into their curriculum."

Blair nodded, "Oh, so that's how it works," she said quietly.

Jo nodded back. The outer lobby area was quiet this afternoon, she noticed. Maybe they were alone after-all.

"So… what now?" Blair asked delicately. She knotted her hands together in front of her.

 _Steady, Jo. Just give her the facts_. "I won't be reporting to you anymore." She saw the slightly disappointed look Blair had tried to cover up.

"I see. I guess you have other projects?" Blair bit her lip nervously.

A careful nod, "Yes."

Blair wore a slightly pained look. "Well, then…" a breath, "I guess, um…"

The tension between them was getting rather heavy, and Blair stared down at the carpet for a bit. She was obviously not happy about the prospect of not seeing Jo at Warner almost every day. Sure she understood the nature of business and how that worked. But still…

"Blair." Jo breathed, "I have to tell you…"

"Wait. Please… just don't say anything." Blair took a few steps closer.

She had sensed it, whatever _it_ was, and she had decided to ignore it: to not lose the connection they'd established. At least for now. She was grateful Jo had not reacted and just watched as she got closer. She slowly wrapped her arms around her shoulders, noticing Jo groan at the contact. Green eyes were heavy lidded as they rolled slightly then closed as their lips softly touched – the contact becoming firmer as they explored each other for a while.

Blair finally broke off the kiss, her eyes still closed as they clung to one another. "Why do I feel like that was a goodbye kiss?" she'd said it jokingly, then after a few quiet beats she stepped back, looking into somber green eyes.

"Jo?"

Jo took another step back. "I have another assignment," she said softly, willing the tone of her voice to convey her sorrowfulness.

Blair stared at her, the swallowed hard. "Well… that's good, right?" she offered a weak smile.

"Is it with another company?" she asked. She saw Jo nod affirmatively; then ran a frustrated hand through her hair. She shrugged, "Maybe we can have dinner one night this week and talk about it," Blair said in a rushed tone.

She waited. Her breath catching, not knowing what Jo would say next.

Jo cleared her throat a few times, feeling it constrict each time she did. "It's overseas."

It felt like a blow, and Blair closed her eyes before taking in a lungful of air. "What do you mean it's overseas?"

Her cell phone rang and Blair took it out of her pocket, glancing at it, but still focused on the woman in front of her as the ringer kept interrupting them. She ignored it.

Jo eyed the phone. "In another country."

"I know what that…" The phone chimed again and Blair tried to turn down the volume. "What exactly are you saying?" she took a look at the screen; then decided to answer it.

"Hold on… Yes, Emily?"

Blair watched as Jo licked her still wet lips then wiped the lipstick off with her fingers before stuffing her hands in her pockets. "No, I haven't heard from him either. I thought you would've talked to him by now….. can I call you back?... fine….. bye."

"You obviously have a lot on your plate." Jo had turned to leave. "I'll just leave you to it."

"Wait, Jo, please," the brunette heard the small waver in Blair's voice.

She reluctantly turned around. She was going to leave a note, maybe tell Natalie to tell Blair about her plane leaving today. What a coward I am. She looked at the forlorn expression on the executive's face as she approached her _. Please give me a reason._

"So you have another job," Blair failed to sound upbeat.

Green eyes stared for a moment; then a dark head of hair gave a little nod.

"When do you start? Because I'm thinking we can hang out until then. Maybe I can come and visit you or… or…"

She stopped herself. Seeing Jo shake her head with a distressed look, and it made her heart sink.

"My plane leaves in three hours."

It _was_ a blow. Who knew six words could mean so much… could convey so much and elicit so much emotion. Blair wasn't ready for it, for how deeply it shook her.

"I see." Was all she could manage to say as she tried to make sense of it all; a growing unease and resentment gripped her.

Jo saw it. She knew the look. Blair sucked in her cheeks and failed to look her in the eye at the news. She suddenly felt nervous. "I can explain."

Angry brown eyes riveted to green, and Jo closed her mouth. "When were you going to explain? When you were half way there?!"

 _Okay, I deserved that_. "You don't understand, it's not like that." She could hear the tremble in her own voice, though she had tried to be calming. That seemed to do nothing to quell the pending anger rolling off of Blair.

Brown eyes glared as Blair's face stiffened into anger. "Then explain why you're leaving on such short notice!"

Jo blinked; trying to catch her breath. "I told you I have another assignment."

Okay, now was the time to kick herself for not thinking this whole thing through. The lies and secrecy were one thing, but the harm they were doing to Blair was making her feel sick.

"Doing what exactly?" Blair persisted, her anger quickly dissipating to thinly veiled sadness. Her voice cracked slightly.

Jo swallowed hard as she bit back the rising bile. "I'm teaching a computer class." She watched apprehensively as Blair absorbed that bit of information.

Brown eyes squinted and Blair crossed her arms and started to pace a bit. "So just like that you're going to hop on a plane?" She threw out an arm.

"I came here to tell you," Jo managed to say in a small voice. "I didn't want to just leave and…" She trailed off seeing a blonde head of hair rigorously shake.

Blair felt the prickle of tears. "What about last night?"

Her voice was hoarse, and the utterly helpless expression she wore was about to be Jo's undoing. She let out a breath at the desolate and dejected look on Blair's face. _What can_ _I possibly say?_ "Last night was …" her voice was raspy. "It was …" a deep sigh.

"Was what, Jo?!" Brown eyes pleaded for understanding, only to see Jo swallow and shake her head. Her head bent down.

 _The most wonderful night of my life and if I tell you that…_ "It was a moment." Jo knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"A moment?!" It was like a jolt and Blair barely caught her breath, her eyes held unshed tears. "What about …." she gestured wildly. "God, what are we?! Friends? Girlfriends?! What am I to you?!"

Jo felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, she looked at the blonde who had the most miserable look on her face. "Blair, please…."

"No… you don't get to explain anymore," Blair brushed a tear away. "You run. You run when things get complicated!" She pointed a strong finger at the brunette.

"I'm not running." That was met with a disbelieving look. "You don't understand. Please…" Jo hated this. The pain of willful dishonesty was a burden she would simply have to bare.

Blair let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I think I understand. I get it now," She gave the woman in front of her a scathing, cynical sneer. "My father was right." She slowly moved, pacing, her arms crossed tightly.

Jo held in a breath. "About what?"

"He was right," Blair shrugged as a tear ran down her cheek. "I have my world you have yours. That's just the way it is." She wiped the tear, then sniffed. "That's what you've been telling me for years."

Jo shook her head. "Blair."

"No." A hand went up. "He's right. We come from two different places." She looked up at the ceiling. "God, how foolish of me to think it would ever work out between us. Forget the fact that we're both women."

Jo had absolutely no words to say to that, and Blair watched the completely dumbfounded expression she wore. _I should have known better._ She shook her head.

"I'm a Warner. I have a duty to my family, and obviously so do you, to your job." She flicked the hair from her face. "I get it now."

Jo's breath was becoming heavy. She had tried in the past to dismiss her attraction as something that could never be reciprocated. The excuse of them being from two different worlds was a defense she had used to not face her feelings. And yet, Blair had said it so bluntly… so truthfully… and maybe, she was right all along.

 _I guess she gave me a reason._

The office door had been lightly tapped on before it opened and a brunette head of hair peeked in.

"Blair?"

 _Amanda._

Gray eyes looked between the two women. "Is everything alright? I heard shouting." She came into the office, seeing the distressed look on Blair's face. She frowned.

Blair turned her attention to the curator. "Everything's fine," she gave her a disingenuous smile, "Jo was just leaving," she said pointedly, eyeing Jo with a sardonic grin.

Amanda picked up on it and gave Jo a tight smile. "Jo. Good to see you again."

Jo was silent for a moment; a glint entered her eyes as she gave a slight nod to the brunette. Her jaw clenched.

Amanda turned her attention back to Blair. "I just dropped by to see if you were free for dinner tonight."

Blair reached out and touched Amanda's arm, giving it a light touch. "Actually, I am..." From the corner of her eye, she saw Jo stiffen, "… very much free for dinner," she gave Amanda a fake smile.

"And maybe even breakfast if you play your cards right," Blair said, sickly sweet. She even batted her eyes at the woman.

Jo stayed silent; just taking it. She had known things would eventually come to this; but she couldn't let on, wouldn't let Blair know she already knew about their relationship, so she managed to put a stunned look on her face.

Blair noticed. "That's right, Jo. Don't act so surprised."

It was Amanda who was caught off guard this time. She was both astounded and smug at the same time. "Blair, I…" she kept her voice low, "are you sure?"

"Positive," Blair said tersely. She could see Jo was clearly uncomfortable. "Jo won't mind seeing that she's fond of women herself."

It was said out of spite and with scorn, and Jo tore her eyes from Blair's.

"That's right, Amanda and I are dating," she added for good measure.

Blair knew that would get the response she wanted, and Jo quickly covered with a look of indifference which made her feel even _more_ irate.

Amanda glanced at both of them, sensing a high level of tension. "Um… maybe I should wait in the lobby." She moved to exit the office closing the door behind her.

Blair watched Amanda leave then crossed her arms. "What… no reaction?"

Jo inhaled, taking a moment, then, "You can date who you want to date Blair. I won't stand in your way."

She turned and headed for the door. Her hand reached for the doorknob, when she heard a sharp intake of breath.

"God, you are so…"

"I have to go." Jo's voice barely registered as she opened the door, stepping into the lobby. She could feel Blair behind her.

"Leave. Go! That's what you do best!" She shouted at Jo's back. "Just know this, Jo. You will never get back into this building once you do," her voice a low growl.

The door slammed shut, the wind from it hitting Jo in the back, and a cold, emptiness slammed into her. She closed her eyes taking in a deep breath before gathering her wits. She turned seeing Amanda watching her with a smirk. She'd wanted to say so many things… and yet, she knew it would be completely fruitless… useless. She took in a breath, lowering her eyes.

"You win."

Jo reached the elevator and entered it, punching the lobby button; then settling against the back wall. She knew she was being watched as she discreetly tapped the back of her ear. "Test."

" _Here_."

"It's done."

"… _Jo_ —"

"Go to hell."

She tapped him off, then squatted down, barely containing the immense anger and hurt she felt. The doors slid open and she stood up, pulling her suit straight; letting out a breath.

She looked toward the security entrance and saw them. Two guards.

Jo headed for them, taking off her badge, she walked right up to the scanner and jammed her card into the slot over and over, almost breaking it.

Doug, the tall, burly, security guard was on his feet as Jo smoothly and quickly moved to exit the lobby. "Hey! Hey, you can't do that!"

He started to run after her until another guard grabbed his arm, yanking him back. "Let her go man."

Doug tried to remove his arm from the grip. "Fuck! Did you see what she just did?!" His pointed to the scanner: it had the broken card hanging from it.

"Forget her." The other guard held his grip. "Warner just pulled clearance, she ain't getting back in."

* * *

Eric had been typing up the last of a report when he heard a knock on his door. "Come in."

Agent Summers came in and took a seat. "Hey, I've got something."

Eric stopped typing, "What is it?"

"Barry Winstead."

Eric watched as she opened her file. "What, Agent?"

"Looks like he's skipped town," Agent Summers read from the latest analytics report. "All of his accounts are closed."

The head agent sat back with a huff, "Shit."

"Where's everybody?" Summers asked.

"On assignment," Eric simply stated, "Okay, get me the full report on him. I'm going to bring in David Warner. We need to inform him about everything. This is what I was afraid of."

Angela Summers nodded in agreement. "We don't know his motives," she said.

"We know he has the money, that's dangerous enough," Eric thought for a moment. "We're going to need to step up security."

Agent Summers stood, "I figured we were at the end of our rope." She paused, "What about Palmero?"

Eric shook his head, "Too risky right now. I've got a light tail on her but we have nothing to bring her in on right now."

Summers let out a grunt at that. She closed her folder.

"FBI is going to take over from here," Eric smirked. "Prepare your files for them."

Summers nodded. "I'll get on it."

* * *

It didn't take long for David Warner to make his way over to JTI. He sat in Eric's office watching as the agent printed off a few papers.

Eric arranged the papers neatly into a file then turned his attention to the CEO. "I won't beat around the bush, Mr. Warner. Barry Winstead has disappeared."

David's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"All of his accounts are cleaned out." Eric watched as David shot out of the chair and approached him.

"Dammit! What the hell did he do?!"

Eric waited a beat before answering. "He took the one hundred eighty million dollars."

David raked a hand through his hair in exasperation, "Why the hell?! How could… You have to get it back!" he ordered, his eyes boring into Eric's.

Eric nodded, "I have a search team working on that."

"That's not enough!" David beat his fist on the desk.

"Mr. Warner, I assure you we are doing everything we can to find him. The FBI is going to be briefed soon."

David looked alarmed. "FBI?"

"Yes, this is now out of our hands."

David shook his head, "We can't afford for this to go public."

Eric lifted a hand, "I assure you we will keep this under wraps, Mr. Warner."

David took in a breath. He sat back down; feeling bewildered. "Blair can't know."

"We're aware," Eric stated, "Especially concerning her…" he paused, "friendship with Agent Polniaczek."

David sat back. "That's probably the only good thing about all of this. Jo keeping an eye on her."

Erick quirked his lips. "She's actually on a different assignment right now."

"What are you talking about?! I-I thought she was keeping Blair safe!" David's voice was rising.

"She was needed on another assignment," was all Eric offered.

David knew not to inquire further. "I want her safe."

Eric understood, "I have a security detail on her. Not to worry."

"Not to worry?" David took out a handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped his upper lip. "She was working on a project with him!" David stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. "She was just asking me about him this morning. We hadn't heard from him."

"Look, Mr. Warner. You need to tell Blair he resigned."

David started to pace. "She's going to want to know why."

Eric thought about that for a moment. "I want you to type up a resignation letter from him and present it to her, after you sign it."

David stopped then looked at the agent. "What should it say?"

"Keep it short. Just tell her he resigned, and tell her he emptied his accounts. If she wants to conclude he was in danger, let her. At least you won't have to explain 'why' he resigned."

David was quiet. "I don't like this… lying to my daughter."

Eric understood; but there was no time for mistakes. "You have no choice. We don't really know why he left as of now. Taking millions of dollars from the company is embezzlement, and believe me, once we catch him, that will be the charge."

David sighed. "So tell her about him cleaning out his accounts, but not about embezzling millions of dollars from the company?"

A nod, "Correct. We don't need her to know; that would just complicate things, and possibly put her in danger."

This was a lot to absorb, David concluded. When he'd been summoned to JTI, he had hoped they'd solved the case and that the family was no longer in danger. Instead… he noticed Agent Nelson watching him. He blinked then slowly agreed.

"I'll do it."

* * *

 **4:57 p. m.**

The loud engine was humming steadily, ready to start taxiing down the runway as Jo was briefed on board the small private jet. There were seven other agents joining her on the assignment to the Gragon Islands.

She was given her living accommodations, credit card and driving arrangements – all contained in a security pouch. She stored it then moved to take a seat. There was one available and, as she sat, realized it was someone she was quite familiar with.

Jo clicked her seat belt. "Hey, didn't know you were on this," she gave him a smile.

"Nelson put me in at the last minute," Agent Mendoza stretched, getting comfortable.

"Really?"

Norm offered a sly smile, "Actually, he asked me if I wanted to go."

"You wanted to go?" Jo asked, hiking an incredulous brow.

Agent Mendoza let out a quiet laugh, "Keeps me busy."

Jo nodded, completely understanding.

The plane started to head down the runway, the engine roaring as it did. Jo looked out of the window. _This is it_. She took a deep breath.

She had texted Tootie and Natalie one last time to tell them 'see you later' and to check in on her father from time to time. She'd tried to call Blair but… predictably, her phone number was blocked. She sighed. The plane lifted off after finally chasing down the runway. She could see the buildings, the statue of liberty and the harbor grow farther away. Manhattan Island was rapidly becoming a tiny dot.

It suddenly overwhelmed her and she took in a shuttered breath.

"Hey, you okay?" Norm had noticed her appearance.

Jo blinked back tears that had gathered on her lashes. "Yeah…" she gave him a smile before looking back out of the window. "… no…" she whispered.

Agent Mendoza shifted in his seat, remaining quiet until he could figure out what to say. He knew first hand what she was going through, and frankly… there were no words to make it better.

"For what it's worth, stay busy," he saw her sad look. "It'll get better," he offered. It wasn't much. Probably didn't amount to anything helpful, but at least she knew he cared.

"Yeah…" Jo offered a lopsided smile.

They had been up in the air for two hours. Jo had taken Agent Mendoza's advice and busied herself in the file she'd been briefed on. After an hour, she understood her assignment and closed the folder; yawning, then leaning her seat back.

They were high up, the clouds the only cushion between them and the ground; the distance growing longer and further away. She looked across from her. Norm had fallen asleep, his head crooked off to the side. She watched as he breathed, occasionally snoring. He looked peaceful. She tilted her head. He's off somewhere far away…away from it all… the life they lead… the danger, the hard times, the bitter… the good, and the… _joyful_.

Jo sighed softy at that. Facing the window again, she traced the wet droplets that were rolling down the surface … she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

 _No more walks on the beach._

* * *

 **5:43 p.m.**

David had waited outside the door after knocking on it twice.

No answer.

Normally, he wasn't one to barge in on anyone, but lately nothing was going exactly _normally_."

He opened the door to Blair's office only to find his daughter standing at her window… staring out of it. The office was starting to take on a grayish hue, the sun behind the buildings creating a dim atmosphere.

She stood still and David quietly approached her. He cleared his voice which startled her, and Blair turned suddenly giving her father an alarmed look. She closed her eyes, taking in a breath once she recognized him.

"Sorry," David smiled sympathetically. "I knocked. Is everything alright?"

Blair swallowed then moved over to her desk, turning on a desk lamp. "Everything's fine," she started to gather loose papers together, piling them on her desk.

David frowned. She seemed… distracted. "You sure?"

"I'm fine, Daddy," she glanced up at him. "Was there something you wanted?" she clicked off her computer monitor.

David sat in the visitor's chair. "I need to talk to you about something," he paused, "very important."

Blair stuffed a file into her brief case. "Can we make it quick I have a meeting and I really don't need anything else to deal with right now," she stated, then zipped up one of the side pockets.

"I'll make it quick."

Blair noticed her father had a piece of paper in his hand. She eyed it with curiosity. "What?"

 _No time like the present._ David held his chin up, capturing his daughter's attention. "Barry Winstead has left the company."

It was stated with such finality, that Blair almost thought he was mistaken. "What?!" she shook her head in disbelief. "When?"

"I don't know exactly when, but I was given a resignation letter," David presented the paper, giving it to Blair, who stared at it before taking it from him.

She skimmed over it. "Great, just great." She sat back hard in her seat.

David continued, "He took everything. His computer, notes, files, reports." He could see Blair was becoming livid, her brows bent in anger.

"Where is he?" she asked squinting at her father. "Is he in some kind of trouble? This is bizarre!"

"I have no idea, Blair. He's left New York apparently." David saw Blair's eyes grow large at the news.

"What do you mean?! Did he just disappear?" Blair gestured, flailing her arms.

 _I'll go along with that_. David nodded. "Yes. Apparently, he cleaned out his bank accounts," he informed.

Blair sat in silence; not believing the kind of day she was having. It seemed almost surreal. "What the hell is going on, Daddy?" she pinned him squarely.

David hiked a brow. "I'm not sure I know."

Blair let out a loud sigh, "what was his reason for resigning?" she picked up the paper reading it again... _pursue other opportunities_. She shook her head.

"That wasn't made quite clear either," David chimed in.

"This is unacceptable." Blair threw the paper on her desk.

"Blair, just calm down," David said gently.

Blair's eyes flashed at him. "Don't try and appease me, I'm sick to death of that! Don't undermine me Daddy!"

David nodded then sighed. He was sure he was not on her good side right now, and decided to tread lightly. He watched as she picked up her in-office phone.

Blair put in a call to the head executive assistant for Marketing. She knew everyone was still there working as the new project had them busy until well after 5 p.m.

"I want all of the manager heads in the conference room on the twentieth floor in fifteen minutes!" she barked then hung up the phone. She pulled out her cell phone and started typing. "I'm cancelling my meeting with IT."

David watched as she stood them grabbed her briefcase, putting the strap on her shoulder. "What are you going to do?"

"What I know is the right thing to do." Blair rounded her desk and quickly headed out of the office.

"Blair, wait." David caught up to her.

Blair stopped then turned. "Please don't second guess me, Daddy," she turned back around.

"I was just going to say, slow down. Don't make any irrational decisions," David said calmly.

Blair gave her father a scowl. "Irrational?" she stopped herself. "Barry has our marketing plans for the region scaled out and outlined for the board – and now he's gone with that information," she explained as her father remained silent.

"I have to talk to his whole management team to try and piece together everything all over again! So don't lecture me about irrational decisions."

Blair had made her point. She turned again almost at the door.

"I understand," David said resolutely.

 _Oh really_. Blair made her way back to her father, stopping right in front of him. She shook her head, suddenly feeling the weight of the day bear down on her. "Do you? Do you really understand?! Everyone and everything that I care about has abandoned me today. Abandoned me, Daddy!"

David noticed her eyes were red… like she had been crying. He reached out to touch her shoulder, only to have her move away.

"I'll be damned if I let this slip through my fingers too." With that, she headed out of the office.

David watched her go, then let out a sigh. He was concerned about her, and wondered if she had bit off more than she could chew. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone tapping it a few times; then waited for it to pick up.

"I told her…. She didn't take it well… Of course I know she can't find out! I'll keep an eye on her…"

* * *

 **8:45 p.m.**

It was still quite warm outside, the night was quiet with just a hint of a breeze… even that high up, Blair noted. She was on her penthouse balcony cradling a glass of white wine – still in her work attire.

As were they all. All of the Marketing team was assembled in her living room. The couch, dining table and kitchen island full of laptops, papers, files, takeout food and coffee cups as eleven of them diligently worked to meet the deadline she had set. She didn't really feel that safe at the office after hours, therefore, her idea to move the entire team to her apartment was the next logical choice.

Blair ran a hand through her hair then took a sip of wine, looking out over the expanse of the city skyline. She was determined to see this through. With the sudden exit of Barry Winstead, it was, in fact, an emergency; and was urgent they piece together his whole part of the presentation _again_.

The nerve of him. Blair walked toward the balcony door. She looked in on her team as they milled about trying to put together various reports. She sighed, then walked over to her arrangement of flowers in her flower bed; looking them over.

She took another sip then turned as someone tapped on the balcony door. It was one of the executive assistants.

"Ms. Warner? There's someone here to see you."

A blonde brow hiked, "Who is it, Darla?"

"Her name's Amanda Palmero," said the small blonde. She waited as she saw Blair nervously bite her lip.

"Yeah, okay… its fine. Please show her in… thanks." Blair gave the young woman a quick smile.

Darla nodded then stepped out of the way as Amanda stepped onto the balcony.

"Hi." Blair gave her a pleasant smile.

"Hey." Amanda looked back into the living room. "What's going on? " She made her way over to Blair, taking a peek at the cityscape as she did.

Blair blew out a breath, "A bit of insanity at the office. We're working late to catch up."

 _Oh_. Amanda gave Blair a warm smile. "Well… I thought we were doing dinner."

"Oh, God, I totally forgot, Amanda, I'm so sorry," Blair said apologetically.

Amanda could see frustration written all over executive.

"No, no, no, it's fine." she looked into the living room again. "I can see you have more important things to attend to."

Blair pinched the bridge of her nose then let her hand drop. "Thank you for understanding," she put a smile on for the curator.

"Maybe I can bring you something?" Amanda asked, a hopeful lilt coloring her voice.

Blair shook her head, "I'm fine really. I couldn't eat a thing right now." She tried to relax; taking a sip of wine.

Gray eyes studied the visibly agitated woman. "Something's bothering you."

A polite smile, "I'm okay," she took another sip.

Amanda wasn't buying it. "I know you, Blair."

Blair licked her lips, then moved to the balcony rail. The wind blew the tresses back from her face as she looked down at the city… the cabs, buses and people milling about. She hesitantly looked up into concerned gray eyes. "I'm fine really."

Amanda looked out over the expanse of the city, then bit the inside of her lip trying to decide the best way to phrase what she wanted to say next. "I heard your conversation with Jo earlier."

There was longer silence as brown eyes returned their gaze to the streets below. She had wrestled with her conscience on whether or not to tell Amanda… but right now? This was not a good time with everything going on. She swallowed.

"Look, Blair, if she was pressuring you about something…" Amanda waited, seeing a returned anxious look.

"She wasn't pressuring me," Blair said softly, putting her glass down.

Amanda gave her a nervous smile. "I was actually surprised you told her about us."

She saw the somber look; the blonde tried to hide it with something else that was somewhere between sad and embarrassed. Amanda tried to understand Blair's mood tonight. She heard her exhale.

"I'm sorry."

Amanda frowned, "What is it?"

Blair fingered the top of her wine glass, circling it. "I just can't right now."

Amanda moved to stand beside her. She lifted her hand, smoothing it over a tense back. "It's okay. I know you've had a rough day we can just get together tomorrow."

Blair moved from the touch, then lowered her head. "No, not tomorrow."

Amanda let her hand fall. She blinked. "Well… what about this weekend? I was thinking of taking you to this little French bistro I know you'll love. They just opened… to take your mind off of your troubles?"

Blair closed her eyes, "Amanda, please," she whispered.

She was tense and closed off, Amanda observed. "What is it Blair? You can be honest with me," she said, concern etching her tone.

Blair took in a breath, then released it; unsure of how to explain. "Can I?"

Amanda's brows knit, "Of course."

Blair wrung her hands together, looking at them; then faced worried gray eyes, "I can't do this."

Amanda cocked her head to the side, "Do what?" she was starting to feel anxious.

Blair took a steadying breath, "This… us."

A flutter of dread went through Amanda. "What are you… what are you saying?"

Blair moved across the balcony. She threaded a hand through her hair, "I-I just need some time," she took a peek at Amanda who stood dumbfounded, "Some space to think."

A quick quirk of lips, "I see." Amanda remained quiet.

"Please understand."

Amanda barked out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I understand."

Brown eyes were almost pleading, and Amanda shook her head, her lips set in a thin line. "It's _her_ isn't it?"

Blair caught her breath, "I really don't want to talk about—"

 _Fuck this._ "I heard you!" Amanda stared at the blonde who had attempted to speak only to lose the nerve. "I heard you, Blair." Amanda kept her voice down.

That was met with more damaging evidence of silence from the executive. Amanda could feel her temper rising, "You played me."

"Please try to understand." Blair peeked into the living room, glad her crew was still busy working.

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest, "It's always been her hasn't it, Blair?"

She waited. Waited for maybe an answer she wasn't expecting. Hoping she was wrong… but… silence. She saw the guilty look in brown eyes. "Yeah… well…" Amanda said bitterly as she moved to leave the balcony.

"Amanda I never meant to hurt you, please know that." Amanda heard the shiver in Blair's voice. _So I guess it is true_. Amanda shook her head, closing her eyes.

"How nice." She kept her back to Blair, hearing stealth heels click on the balcony surface as she approached her.

"You're hurt. I take full responsibility for that." Amanda could feel Blair's warmth as she stood close to her, not wanting the people on the other side of the glass door to hear them.

"Right."

"Just… please know I would never do that intentionally," Blair tried to explain; hoping to placate their situation. She waited a few beats, "Say something."

Amanda faced her, "What do you want me to say?"

Gray eyes were obviously trying to avoid looking at her. Blair felt the guilt of it all. "Just know I adore you."

Blair heard the scoff but kept on going. "You have been there for me… helped me through a lot of things and I am grateful to you for that." She finished.

Amanda held a brusque look, "I get it now." She smiled snidely, "You used me."

Blair rigorously shook her head, "No, I would never do that."

"Of course not. Not intentionally," Amanda purred harshly. She stood her ground, noticing Blair check the living room ever so often. "But you did, Blair."

Blair stood quietly, letting Amanda finish. She felt almost defenseless.

"What. You think we can just be friends now?" Amanda glared, her lips twitching, "I don't think so."

Amanda moved to open the door, her hand poised on the pull.

"Please, just." Blair motioned for her to stop.

Amanda took one last glare before turning, "I'll just leave you to your work. Obviously you need a distraction more than anything tonight."

"I never meant to hurt you." It was said quickly, and it stopped Amanda from pulling the door open.

"I'm sure you didn't," she pulled the door open, taking one last look at Blair, "Goodbye, Blair." _You will regret this._

Blair watched as the curator made a hasty exit out of the penthouse. A few of the managers had looked up from their laptops with puzzled expressions as she hastily left, slamming the front door.

Blair chose not to address it, and instead closed the balcony door, and went back to the railing; guilt wrapped around her like a vice.

She put her elbows on the rail, holding her head in her hands. There was an entire team waiting for her. She didn't feel ready to lead at the moment. Not really sure of what she was suppose to feel at all. Numb, maybe? _Oh God what a day._ She noticed the night sky had set itself up for the evening, the stars twinkling as the moon glowed at half mast. Blair drew in a breath. She had steeled her heart, her head, her feelings all day… ever since…

No. _I won't go there._

She straightened, looking at the busy room in front of her. No. "I'm a Warner. I have a job and a duty." It was decided. No more pity parties. She squared her shoulders and steeled herself. "Time to move on."

Blair entered the room, noticing several heads pop up as she stepped around the table to stand in the center of the room.

"So, how are we doing?"

One of the marketing project managers piped up. "We have four reports done." He held up the sheets.

Blair nodded, "How many more to go?"

"Ten," he sighed then placed them in a folder.

"Blair don't you think we should convene for the evening? It's getting late." Emily had been quietly sitting on the sofa. She was sipping a glass of water through a straw. Blair gave her an irritated look as she leaned toward the Advertising VP.

"Well then I suggest you either get comfortable or retire for the evening, Emily, because I'm not letting this project fall even further behind. Understand me?"

Several heads looked up, wide eyed. Silence graced the room.

Emily stared at the president of Warner textiles, taken aback, she let the straw dangle from her mouth, swallowing. "Perfectly."

Blair flicked a condescending smile, "Good. Anyone else have a suggestion?" she asked the room… which remained silent. A few grumbles could be heard.

Another smile, "Great. Then I guess we should get back to work." It was said overly perky, and Blair moved to pick up a file from the table, opening it.

"Excuse me, Ms. Warner?"

"Yes?" Blair addressed Darla, who had moved to stand beside her.

"I think we need to include Mr. Warner, I mean _Robert_ Warner's report before we finalize the estimate for the quarterly numbers in his division." The small blonde woman blinked at her as she waited.

"Robert's been gone for a while, Blair," Emily interjected.

"Robert is on temporary leave," Blair addressed Emily. She raised her voice to address the room. "He's been periodically reporting to me in the evenings."

All eyes were on her now and the president of Warner Textiles moved back to stand in front of everyone. "I, in turn, put an in-office email of our meetings notes in a secure file and have outlined the particulars. From there, each one of you was given a copy."

She looked around the room, seeing several stunned faces; a few people had started to type on their laptops and eventually the whole room vibrated with keys clicking rapidly.

Blair pressed her lips together, "Anyone care to tell me why none of this was implemented?"

"W-we just thought…"

Blair slid her eyes over to the assistant. "Let me stop you right there, Darla. _You thought_ is not an acceptable excuse."

The young woman balked, but remained quiet. Blair continued, "Robert has managed to be on leave and still do his job. No excuses," her voice took on a low register.

"You have until 2 a.m. to read the files and get the information in an outlined form," Blair informed the room again. "I'm sure each of you values your job well enough to know I expect nothing but stellar effort from each and every one of you." She took in a breath.

"Your job as well as the company depends on it," Blair let a feral smile etch her face, baring teeth.

"You want it finished tonight?" Someone had blurted out.

"What part of by 2 a.m. did I not make clear?"

"Yes. Thank you," the voice wavered then thinned out.

Blair sent a scathing glare around the room. Everyone had their heads down, diligently working. She was pleased at that. "I'm sure you all will not disappoint."

She left the room and went back out on the balcony, closing the door behind her. She stood there for a moment then moved, taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs. She wrapped her arms around herself; she missed Gigi – the little dog was with Meg tonight.

Blair took a few moments, letting her mind think of the project, the revelation about Barry Winstead was unsettling. She'd talk to her father about that later. She reached in her skirt pocket and took out her phone, staring at it, then making up her mind and tapped in a number. She listened until the phone picked up.

"Hi, mother. I'm fine… I um…" a breath, "do you still have room for one more? … yes … great. I'll be ready…" she put a playful note in her voice that she didn't really feel, "there's nothing like St. Tropez… I will… bye."

Blair taped off the phone as her smile faded.

* * *

 _ **Florenza's Café - Midtown, Manhattan**_

"Thank you, Ms. Ramsey. You were great in Two Crow's Feet."

Tootie scribbled a few words on the napkin, then handed it back to the woman. "You're welcome and thank you."

She smiled at the young lady, noticing her eyes grow wide at the signature. Blushing, she left the table.

Natalie drew in a breath. "Should I call apartment maintenance and tell them to widen our front door?"

Tootie put her pen in her purse giving Natalie a puzzled look.

"So you can fit your head through it, Tootie," Natalie stated.

A smirk, "Ha, ha." Tootie sipped her sparkling cider. "Can I help it if I'm getting recognized now?"

Natalie sipped her coffee, "I can only imagine they'll be beating down the door after your Shakespeare premier."

Tootie smiled getting comfortable in their usual booth at Florenza's Café. They had scheduled their monthly get together for today, with the hopes that Jo and Blair could join them, of course. Natalie would've almost guaranteed they would since they were both living in town. When she got Jo's text that she was suddenly leaving town and Blair's call saying she was swamped at work… well. _Crap_.

A sigh, "Do you think we'll ever be the four musketeer's together again, Tootie?"

Tootie quirked her lips, "Hopefully before Christmas," she bit into her cinnamon roll.

"Your opening night is soon. I hope Blair can make that at least," Nat looked around the famous café. It was starting to fill up.

Tootie swallowed, "I've already threatened her, she'll be there," she chuckled.

They had been there for over an hour. Dinner had been great as they were presently working on dessert. The two settled into a light banter discussing their jobs, life in the city and possibly wanting to take a trip somewhere in the future.

Florenza's had quite a few notable famous people tonight, and Tootie and Natalie gawked when one would enter the restaurant. They had a ringside seat from the vantage point of their booth. Natalie sighed. She mused at just how much her life had changed since the last time they'd gotten together.

Tootie was, no doubt, about to become a star. She was ready for it. Her play was a few days from debut, and she was already reading about how much the community was excited for her to shine onstage. She took another sip of coffee.

Tootie looked at Natalie. Things were changing, and she smiled at her table mate who returned the smile with a puzzled one of her own. She knew her closest, best friend may indeed be the next, most awesome star reporter the world had ever seen... someday.

Tootie lifted her glass as Natalie followed suit. "Here's to the four musketeers."

* * *

 **One month later…**

 ** _(South of France_** **)**

The sun was slowly sinking behind the ocean's horizon; the late afternoon greeting the early evening as two figures poised on the beach close to the surf.

Blair had donned her 'painting attire' as she often did when in France. She loved the tranquil nature of painting outdoors – as did many of the natives and tourists. She wore a blue oversized button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and white pedal pushers, complete with sandals. She had her hair swept back in a loose ponytail, fending off wisps of hair as they blew in her face.

A pallet loaded with various paint colors was gripped in her left hand while she dusted on the first strokes of paint – the horizon, sea and shore colors went on first.

Monica Warner had stretched out a reclining chair and she laid back, legs crossed at the ankles. She'd put on a floppy hat and shades as she looked out over the seascape, breathing in the mist and watching the waves as they came in. She had been nursing a glass of her favorite vino as she relaxed. "Lovely evening, dear," she quipped then took a sip. She held her glass out to the side as she looked at her daughter who was in beside her.

"Blair?"

Two more dabs were put in place on the canvass. "Hmm?" She mixed the two colors together.

Monica watched her with mild fascination. "Darling I'm worried about you," she took another sip.

"I'm fine, mother." Blair applied another color onto her brush.

Monica tilted her head, looking at the painting as it came to life. Blair was good. No. She was an excellent painter; something she'd gotten from both sides of the family. "Are you sure?"

Blair paused then turned, looking at her mother. She gave her a scoffing smile. "Of course." That was met with pursing lips and the lifting of one _not so convinced_ eyebrow.

Blair knew that look. She groaned. "What?"

Monica sighed, "I've just never seen you like this," she swirled the wine in her glass.

Blair turned and added more color to the sky. "Like what?" she added more paint to her brush.

Monica rolled her eyes a bit. _Where to start_. "Well, we've been here for two weeks and you've hardly been enthusiastic about anything we've seen," she accused. "Blair darling, we're in St. Tropez. You've loved St. Tropez since you were a child," Monica had leaned forward; concern etched her voice.

Blair paused her brush over the canvas then cleared her throat. She dabbed on more paint then brushed on more colors. "I'm fine, I've just been thinking about my project, is all."

Monica fell back, exasperated. "Oh, for…" she sat forward again, "dear, leave the office at the office!"

"I know… I will." Blair had her back to her mother. She rolled her eyes.

Monica waited a beat. "Good," she took a sip of wine. "I mean… what on earth could be so important that you couldn't enjoy France?" she asked, then finished her glass.

Blair sighed, facing her mother. "You're absolutely right, Mother," a brief smile.

"Good." Monica sat up fully, then stood, straightening her hat a bit before addressing Blair. "Well… I'm going to go and freshen up for dinner," she patted her daughter's shoulder.

"I'll be there in a minute." Blair watched as Monica dusted herself off then made her way back to the beach house, empty wine glass in hand.

She turned her attention back to the easel. Taking a deep breath, she poised her brush over the canvass… holding it there, then glanced over the top of it at the seascape. The waves were crashing harder on the shore as the tide was coming in. Blair stood mesmerized by it all, transfixed as the sun had set itself halfway between the sky and the crest tops of the ocean. It painted the whole sky a brilliant array of multi colors.

She listened to the distinct sounds of the beach: the surf, the wind, the seagulls singing above her as she flicked her eyes to the canvass again ready to capture the moment before it faded…

She took in a breath closing her eyes.

Willing her mind _not_ to go there… but to no avail. It returned to that one brief reminder… that one evening she'd shared with Jo… on the couch with a scene much like what she had in front of her.

Brown eyes snapped open, a deep breath as she punched the canvas, trying to unload the paint that was on her brush. Again and again she'd finally given in to making long, strong strokes, arching strokes as her eyes became crowded by tears; scraping the canvass as she did.

The brush was thrown at the canvass as she pushed the easel away, "Dammit!"

She was breathing hard, and her knees bent as her body collapsed to sit on the ground. The cool sand was felt on her butt and legs.

She had tried so hard… so very hard to keep her mind on her work, to not think about anything else, for over a month. She'd been more shrewd, cocky and focused than ever; her staff - often afraid of even asking her a simple question. She had snapped off the heads of the vice presidents of various departments, during long board meetings.

Cold, unfeeling… that was the new president of Warner Textiles.

Blair crossed her arms, grabbing her shoulders and brought her knee's up close to her chest; wrapping herself up in a ball as the wind blew strands of hair around her. She rocked back and forth as a flood of overwhelming emotion grabbed her… her heart slamming in her chest in rhythm with the pounding surf.

She had held it off for as long as she could, ignoring it - she'd tried to shake it. She couldn't deny it. Turning her head to the side she let a fresh row of tears flow freely.

Her mother's words echoed back to her as she rested her cheek on her knees: … _what on earth could be so important that you couldn't enjoy France?_

Blair breathed in heavily, her eyes fluttering until finally she closed them; letting out a shuddering breath…

 _I fell in love._

* * *

 ** _My apologies for the delay. Giving thanks to all of the reviews, follows and messages. You must know I read, laugh, nod along with and cry with each and every one of them. You truly keep me going..._**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Notes:**

 _Charmile Hotel – not a real hotel that I know of, but totally made up for the story. ( Not to be confused with Les Charmilles Hotel in France)._

 _Kinjing City – made up city on the Gragon Island._

 _Millet – in this story it's a tart fish when cooked (even though the millet butterfly fish is a real fish)._

 _'Tragedy, According to Shakespeare' - a theatrical play for this story and this story only._

* * *

 **Gragon Islands - _Mid Pacific Region_**

"We should be clear in about four coordinates!"

The motor and propeller were loud as the pilot swung the helicopter around the terrain of the island with ease.

"Great!" Jo answered back, her eyes never leaving the terrain.

They had been given the coordinates of its location - after the previous team had found the mine… or rather, after Agent Polniaczek had figured out where to look for it. It was quite a brilliant trick. A previously unknown _fifth_ mine was directly buried under the first one; and unlike the four previous ones that were scattered all over the island.

Jo had arrived in Gragon in just enough time to diffuse mine number four, but they had learned of a fifth one that was even more elusive. It was unexpected, to say the least. The mine had not started its countdown until they had brought it above the surface. A specialized team was quickly assembled to extract it from the ground to carefully and slowly bring it up.

That was exactly two hours ago and the countdown clock on the thing had begun. Jo was now headed for the middle-most island. It was smaller than the rest of the twelve islands that made up the Gragon region.

Green eyes took in the scenery as they swiftly moved toward the diffusion site. Gragon. Sounds like something out of a science fiction novel. Jo marveled at the terrain as she adjusted to the noisy helicopter. Her seat was tiny, and the space was cramped; even though it was just her and the pilot.

Thick, green tropical forest gave way to a sandy bright coastline. It was merely a thin strip of pearly white sand, but just a few yards in she saw the mine… it was above ground and she gulped as a fresh sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead. _This is it_.

A small backpack containing standard survival items and water was tightly adjusted to strong shoulders. The helicopter slowed, choosing to stay several yards away from the site in order to not disturb the sensitive area.

A rope ladder was lowered just a couple of feet from the ground and Jo eased her way down it. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the swirling sand the helicopter was kicking up. She gave the pilot a thumbs up which was mirrored, as the ladder was drawn back up and the helicopter was maneuvered up and away – finally disappearing over the trees.

Jo was dressed comfortably: cut-off jeans, white tank top and white trainers. Her hair was in a loose ponytail. She gripped her backpack, and eyeing the mine with determination, she steeled her nerves as she approached it.

Her commanding supervisor was General Howard Barber. She was to directly report to him during the diffusion of the mine; and she tapped the back of her ear as she slowed her stride.

"Agent Polniaczek reporting."

" _Agent Polniaczek, have you arrived at the site?"_

"Yes, I have. I'm about four yards away from it now." Jo's eye's couldn't help but widen as the seriousness of what she was about to do hit her.

" _Let me know when you start, Agent_."

A few more steps and Jo was staring directly at the large mine. It was encased in a sophisticated box that also held a container of C4. "I will."

She sat her backpack down then retrieved a small keyboard from it. She carefully looked around the mine and located the port on the box. Plugging in the keyboard, she quickly installed a drive that immediately decoded the first set of scrambled codes that controlled the detonation of the mine.

That was just the first layer. There were six more to decode.

"Bingo, first layer down." Jo felt her nerves jolt to excitement, but quickly tampered down on them as she worked several minutes to decode the next layer.

" _Okay, Agent. Go gently_."

Jo cracked a tense, sideway's grin. "Don't worry."

Fingers tapped urgently on the keyboard as another wall came down… then another. Finally, it was as if she were standing in front of a large iron gate ten feet thick. Jo blinked at the sudden drops of sweat that had fallen into her eyes.

She started a series of sequences, remembering each one as she went over them again, changing various numbers. "Shoot." So far nothing was working.

" _Careful."_

Jo wiped at her brow. "Crap, this one's complicated." A few more sequences were tried.

" _Go easy, Agent_."

Jo could feel her fingers tense as she tried one last sequence – finally getting through to the next layer. She let out a burst of laughter. "Okay, I'm in."

 _"I don't have to tell you, Agent, your countdown just started_."

The voice on the other end crackled, and Jo could hear the General sigh as she bit down on her bottom lip; blinking the sweat from her eyes. She nodded as she looked at the digital clock on the mine. It read 5 minutes before the countdown was triggered – the numbers decreasing with a harsh speed that made her stomach almost bottom out.

"No you didn't, but thank you anyway."

* * *

 ** _Grammerson Playhouse Theater_**

The theater house had filled up quite nicely. The play was in its fourth week and still selling out. Tootie – _Dorothy Ramsey_ as she was known on the Marquee - had been a standout and the play was a a critical smash hit. The reviews for _Tragedy, According to Shakespeare_ , were kind, flattering and well deserved.

Brown eyes squinted in the softly lit theater, as the usher had escorted Blair to her isle. She finally spotted the nicely dressed reporter and made her way over to the seat beside her. A few people had complimented her on her dress – green sequined in the front, tastefully, then form fitting from the waist down. "It's a Cartier," she had informed a woman who couldn't seem to keep her eyes off of the blonde beauty as she passed by.

Natalie shook her head slightly at the display. _You can take a girl off of Madison Avenue.._. "Blair over here!" she said, loud enough for Blair to suddenly look up and lock eyes with her. Natalie smiled as her friend finally made it over.

"Five minutes to spare." Blair tucked her dress under as she sat, then opened the playbill. "I kept my word."

Natalie nodded then took a sip of wine that she had purchased beforehand. "Tootie will be shocked, that's for sure."

Blair laughed, ignoring the playful jab, "Is she still nervous?"

"She's always nervous." Natalie sat her wine in the chair's cup holder, "It's been over three weeks since opening night and she's still shaking like a leaf."

"Did you tell her to break a leg?" Blair asked, coyly.

Blue eyes slid over to brown. "Every chance I got." That earned her a chuckle. "Didn't help," Natalie smirked. She sat back and regarded her seat mate, who had taken to engrossing herself in the playbill. She folded her hands together, resting them in her lap. "How's your project coming?"

"Hm? " Blair looked up. "Oh, we're almost ready to present."

A nod, "Oh good." A few beats passed then, "Heard from Jo?"

Blair lifted a brow then blinked a few times. "No." She kept her eyes on what she'd been reading, anticipating the next question.

Natalie nodded quietly, "You two fighting again?"

"No. I've just been too busy to think about her is all," Blair briskly turned the page.

Natalie studied her for a moment. "Oh." She picked up her cup then began sipping the fruity wine. It was a little too fruity, really. Natalie looked into her cup. _Kind of cheap, maybe_ … she crinkled up her nose.

"I mean. She's been busy, wherever she is… I'm sure," Blair blurted. She kept her eyes on the playbill.

Natalie looked up a bit startled, having almost forgotten the conversation. "Sure." She gave a pensive smile then took another sip of wine. "I'm sure she'll contact us when she gets a chance," she told Blair.

The lights dimmed, indicating the play was about to start. Many patrons began lowering the tone of their conversations as the playhouse went completely dark. Natalie sat back and got comfortable, ready to mouth the first words of the play; she'd practically seen it twenty times already. She snuck a look at Blair who was now staring straight ahead. She could just make out her facial expression as the curtain rose and the stage lights began to illuminate the theater.

* * *

 _"You still there?"_

"Yeah… I'm… hold on," Jo tapped in a code, finally breaking through.

" _You're doing great, Agent."_

Jo shook her head, willing her brain to stay focused. Her eyes were riveted to the screen. They were burning, but she didn't dare take her attention away from it. "Each one's more complicated than the last," she replied.

She was seated on the bare, cold sand of the beach. She could feel her legs starting to cramp, but she ignored it... she ignored the pain in the joints of her fingers and the cold damp feeling of her sweat drenched tank top as it rubbed against her.

" _How many more?"_

"Two." Fingers traveled over the keyboard with speed.

" _Three minutes, Agent."_

More tapping, then, "I know." Jo flicked a look at the digital clock… the numbers ticking down rapidly. Her eyes kept going between the clock and the screen as her mind suddenly stalled. _Under two minutes._ "Sh—"

 _"You stopped."_

Jo wiggled her fingers, trying to get the circulation flowing back in them. She moved her neck around, stretching it. "Give me a second."

 _"Okay, easy…"_

She placed her hands back on the keyboard; her fingers took on a life of their own as she typed in code after code. _C'mon, c'mon_! Jo blew at the sweat drops that were running off of the tip of her nose. She hit Enter. _Please work_. "Got it." She closed her eyes and barked out a frustrated cry.

" _Good."_

Taking in a lungful of air to steady herself, Jo tapped in another sequence. Her eyes flicking to the clock as she did.

It didn't work. She stopped. "Crap."

 _"One minute,"_ the voice on the other end practically squeaked.

"I know! I can see the damned clock!" Jo ran a shaky hand through sweaty hair. She watched as the numbers relentlessly continued to count down, then felt the roll of a single tear make its way down her cheek, and for a split second wondered how it got there.

Everything was moving in slow motion as she looked down at the keyboard, at her hands then – placing them on the pad, typed in a sequence, then another… her eyes were closed as she ran the numbers through her brain.

The numbers became a blur, yet she kept her fingers moving… just a few more codes to try until there was…

Nothing. _Damn_ …

She saw darkness and brown, and lips and hands… blonde hair and… her _life_ and… weary eyes suddenly snapped open as she put in another code, hitting Enter.

 _"Steady, Agent, concentrate."_

I didn't work. _"_ Fuck! _"_

It didn't work… _Dammit!_ She kept going, determined, she shook her head as silent tears were flowing freely now.

" _Steady_."

She hit Enter again… nothing.

" _Thirty seconds agent..."_

"Shut up, shut up!" Jo's voice was high pitched as she hit Enter again and again, each code failing.

"Sh— Oh my God!"

" _Fifteen seconds!"_ The voice was practically a whimper, as the General's harsh breathing was the only thing grounding Agent Jo Polniaczek.

"Fuck!" another sequence, then Enter… nothing. "C'mon, c'mon! **Come on!"**

"Five seconds..." The voice bellowed.

 _Oh my God, Oh my God._

Could it be… maybe… that that one last 'thing'… that way of going at it the _other_ _way_ could be the way to go? Could she have been going at it all wrong all a long? Jo looked at the clock, then nodded to herself and typed in a sequence… a different one.

She numbly hit Enter…

The clock stopped at two seconds. It stopped… and a breathless, stunned, "Got It," was strangled from her throat as she collapsed boneless, beside the mine. _Oh man._

Eyes closed, Jo could feel the warm breeze of the wind cool her. She heard the water beating at the coastline, her senses were on high as she was deafened with the sounds of her surroundings. Crisp. Clear… real.

Life. It was precious. She smiled internally as she felt a reset button being pressed on her life, and those whom she'd just saved by a mere… two seconds.

How long were two seconds?

An eternity.

There was an outburst of yelling and whooping in her ear, and Jo just laid there with a smile on her face; breathing in the salty, warm air.

" _Holy shit! Congratulations, Agent!"_

No words… there were no words as Jo simply nodded her head. She laid there a few more moments before sitting up. She stood then felt dizzy. "H-hold on a minute… just…"

Reaching for her backpack, Jo took out a container and a special tong for collecting hazardous materials. She retrieved the vile of C4, putting it in the container before securing it in her back pack.

It was done. Over. The reality of what she'd just been through hit her as she stumbled away from the mine, a few yards before falling to her knees, bending over. She was on all fours before she heaved a few times, then emptied the contents of her stomach.

Once she had finished she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She turned and sat on the sand, facing the water. She was panting heavily.

" _You okay, Agent?"_

"Peachy." Jo's voice was fried. "Get me the hell out of here."

There was a watery chortle, then, "Chopper will be there in ten minutes, hang tight."

Jo looked out over the water. The sky was completely devoid of clouds, as the sun's rays beat down on her. The white sandy beach was almost blinding and she stood and walked over to her backpack, getting out her sun glasses. She strapped on her backpack and noticed a small strip of cloth had washed up onto the shore. Bending down to pick it up, she noticed another piece of cloth floating in with a small wave.

She looked down the shoreline seeing many items had made their way to the beach.

"What is this?"

* * *

 **Florenza's Café**

It was one of the busiest nights for the café – after a play had let out. There was a long table wait at the door, yet Tootie, Natalie and Blair had managed to beat the rush. They sat at their usual booth, and were halfway through dinner when a sudden rush of patrons noticed Tootie and wanted her autograph.

The young actress was beyond enthused, and delighted in the attention, smiling, taking pictures and signing napkins and playbills. It wasn't quite as bad as opening night which consisted of Tootie's friends and family getting a dose of the new world of being recognized and associated with a _star_.

"Can't we get through one meal?" Natalie sat her fork down.

"Nat." Tootie smiled as an excited fan snapped her picture.

"What? This is insane!" the reporter barked back.

A bright toothy smile. "This is the life." Tootie handed a man his playbill back.

Blair sipped her tea. "I'm glad you're enjoying it, Tootie. You've worked so hard."

Tootie regarded Blair with a warm smile. "Thank you. Natalie's just irritated," she peeked over at her roommate.

"I have a right to be." Natalie stood her ground. She looked at Blair. "Did you know we got flowers sent to the apartment?"

Blair let out a laugh. "What's wrong with that?"

"They were about forty dozen roses left at our front door… I almost had to go to the emergency room because of all the cuts from the thorns," Natalie winced for good measure.

"I've always told you to put on shoes when going to the mailbox," Tootie said.

Natalie gave Tootie a smirk. "I had on shoes Tootie! I was overwhelmed as were my delicate soles."

Tootie looked at Blair who had sat back in the booth and gotten comfortable. "She means cheap foot ware. Those things she calls house slippers are practically made out of paper."

"They're house _shoes_ , Tootie." Natalie defended with a scoff. "Even so," Natalie persisted, "we may have to move. It's getting dangerous."

Tootie shook her head smirking, as did Blair. They'd decided to call a truce for now and finished their meals, commenting on the food and electing to keep the topic of conversation on the light side.

Tootie glanced at the blonde executive before setting her glass down. "So, Blair, you've been pretty quiet."

Blair regarded Tootie. "I was just thinking."

"You've got that big presentation coming up," Tootie replied, picking up a piece of bread from the bread basket. "How's that going?" She took a small bite out of it.

"We're ready," Blair wiped her mouth.

Tootie chewed. "Oh… well," she swallowed. "Good."

Natalie looked between her two friends. "Well… look at us, three out of four isn't so bad, huh?" she smiled. "Speaking of the fourth, has anybody heard from Jo? I spoke with her a couple of weeks ago."

"Last Friday," Tootie supplied. She cut her eyes to Blair. "Blair?"

Blair folded her linen napkin and gently placed it on the table. "I'm sure she's busy leading her life," she picked up the dessert menu and opened it. "What's good for dessert here?"

"Hold up, Warner," Tootie put a hand up. "Are you two fighting about something?"

Brown eyes directly scanned the menu choices. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Tootie."

"Are you sure about that?" Tootie pressed. She sensed there was a little more to Blair's demure mood than a regular garden variety fight with her favorite motorcycle clad Bronxonian. Jo had been gone for quite a while, and she had informed both her and Natalie that she hadn't talked to Blair since she left the city. Really… Blair's grudges could be legendarily long, but this would be stretching it.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Blair had peered over her menu, "I mean, Jo's a grown woman, she has her own life. What business is that of mine?" She put the menu down on the table.

Tootie's brow furrowed for a bit; then she resorted to just nodding along. "Well… okay then."

"Besides, she's chosen to live half way around the globe, so very well. It's none of my business," the executive's eyes found Tootie's - who was visibly trying to understand.

"Right." Tootie gave her what she hoped was a little reassuring smile.

"If she wants to contact me, she can write a letter," Blair said sternly, then picked up the last of her tea, downing it in one swift move.

She sounded a bit offended… or maybe they were both trying to out-do the other in stubbornness. _Who knows_ , Natalie thought. "Blair: you and you paper fetish," she shook her head at the blonde.

Blair tilted her head in acquiesce. "Old habit, but what I prefer for communication," she gave them a wry smile. "It leaves a much more reliable trail of evidence."

Natalie couldn't disagree with that. "True," she gave Tootie a confused face before taking a sip of coffee.

"Enough about that," Blair waved off the conversation. "I'm sure she is just fine… wherever she is."

That earned her a tight smile from both of her table mates. They quietly watched as Blair gained the attention of their waiter and placed her dessert order. Tootie discreetly mouthed ' _what was that_?' to Natalie who shrugged back, equally confused.

* * *

Jo sat in the comfortable reclining chair and ate a couple of granola bars and an apple, there in the screening room of the embassy. She had been severely dehydrated; which was why they had given her an I.V. Once the helicopter had safely made its way back to the embassy and landed, Jo exited it. As soon as she set foot on the ground her legs had given out. She hadn't realized the tremendous pressure she'd been under. Dr. Spivey and two nurses had worked on her until her blood pressure and hydration levels were back to normal.

They finally released her four hours later, and she made her way to the controller room where General Barber and his crew were waiting for her.

The corridor was long and winding. Once at the entrance, she scanned her eye and right thumb fingerprint before the doors slid opened. She braced herself. It wasn't that she wasn't proud of her accomplishment - it was all the pageantry everyone made over it.

It was her job, what she was trained for. Couldn't that just be enough without having to throw a party for it all? The door slid open. _Here we go_...

"There she is!"

The room erupted in a big whoop as numerous agents and army personnel moved to embrace Jo. She shook many hands and endured a few pats on the back before reaching General Barber.

He stretched his hand out, along with a broad smile "Nice job, Agent Polniaczek."

"Thank you, sir." Jo shook the strong grip.

General Barber's eyes sparkled with pride. "They told me you were one of the best, and I have to say, I'd be very proud to have you in my fox hole."

Jo let out a laugh. "Well, thank you very much, sir."

It was contagious… the overwhelming feeling of _relief_. Jo allowed herself the rare opportunity to celebrate it; then made her way over to a familiar face.

"You're going get a commendation for this agent!" another agent exclaimed from across the room.

"Nah, it's all in a day's work, guys," Jo waved that off.

"Listen to this, you just saved millions of lives, that's gonna' get you mad props from the top!" someone shouted to a round of claps and whistles.

"Alright, knock it off," Jo bowed her head, smiling bashfully. She at least had the good sense to blush humbly.

"Good job, Jo," Agent Mendoza handed her a cup of apple cider. He respected Jo's reserved nature and knew better than to make too much out of the situation.

"Thanks." Jo took a much needed drink and leaned back on a table.

Norm had his feet up on the table and was leaning back in his chair. "Looks like half of us will be getting out of here soon."

"Yeah," Jo nodded. Somehow she doubted she'd be in that number; and the thought sent a pang of dismay through her. She willed it away, keeping herself focused.

The cleanup work was next. It had taken a while to find and diffuse the last mine. That meant sweeping the islands for any additional mines, and or threats – then securing the territory.

Jo took another sip. "Oh, hey, while I was out there I noticed a bunch of clothes were washing up on the shore."

She had stuffed the material in her jeans pocket and took it out, handing it to agent Mendoza.

He grabbed it then looked at it closely. "What's this?"

Jo shrugged. "I don't know, but if it's from one of the pirate ships, maybe we can do a trace on it for a lead." It was more of a silent request, and Mendoza bit the inside of his lip in thought.

 _Makes sense_. He turned the material over in his hand. "I'll get on it."

* * *

"Do you want the other half?" Meg asked for the second time. Blair was otherwise distracted by her ever present phone.

"No, you can have it," she typed in a reply then pushed the other half of her waffle over.

Meg took the plate, then cut a piece of syrupy waffle before popping it into her mouth. "Blair?"

"What?" Brown eyes looked up.

"What's going on with you?" Meg's brow's knit in concern.

More typing then, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Meg chewed. And waited. She knew Blair could feel her eyes on her.

"Okay, I guess I'm a little nervous about the presentation," Blair put her phone down.

"When is it again?" Meg asked around another mouthful of waffle.

"This Friday. Wish me luck," Blair took a sip of orange juice.

"Good luck." Meg continued to watch her. "Are you ready?"

"I have no idea," Blair sat back. "I mean, I think we are but… you can never be too prepared for this sort of thing when it comes to the board." She directly addressed Meg.

Usually Blair kept up a good poker face when it came to these kinds of things but… something was a bit off, Meg deduced. She didn't seem as in control. Then again, she had never been the president of a major corporation before, so that _may_ have something to do with it.

"Well, I don't know much about the corporate world, but I'm sure you'll handle everything perfectly," Meg smiled.

"Thanks, Meg," Blair smiled stiffly in return.

"Anytime. And once it's all over we'll celebrate," Meg picked up her coffee cup.

"Um hm, sure." Blair said distractedly. She had taken, once again, to her phone.

Meg put her cup down. _That sounded non committal_ … "Unless you have other plans?" she asked inquiringly.

Blair looked up, "No, I don't have any plans."

 _Okay_. Meg shrugged. "I didn't know whether you and Amanda—"

"We're not dating anymore," came the quick reply.

"What?" Meg looked at Blair surprisingly. _That was a quick turn of events._

"I ended it," Blair clarified.

Meg took a moment to absorb that. She had been so busy with Joyce's care and other work that she'd barely had time to connect with Blair lately. The only time they saw each other was when Gigi traded places. "When did this happen?"

"A while ago…" Blair glanced down at her lap a bit self consciously.

Meg waited until she looked back up, catching the somewhat melancholy look in her eyes. "You could've told me, Blair."

"It's okay, really," brown eyes slid from hers, then glanced around the café.

Meg sat back in her chair. "Something else is bothering you."

Blair looked at her step-sister. "I'm fine."

Meg crossed her arms. "What's going on, you just up and ended it with Amanda?" she asked, not quite sure what to make of Blair's dismissive attitude. "What happened?"

"Nothing... Life." Blair fidgeted with the napkin in her lap. "Just drop it okay?" Her eyes were almost pleading.

Meg cocked her head a little surprised. "Okay." You don't have to tell me twice.

Blair suddenly gathered her briefcase and rose from the table. "I have to go, they're waiting for me."

Meg watched as the blonde distractedly hooked the strap of her briefcase on her shoulder; then turned to leave. "Blair?"

Blair had taken a few steps. She stopped, keeping her back to Meg.

"If you ever need to talk…" Meg left it open. She waited, sensing a struggle of some sort within the executive.

There was a heavy exhale, and Blair stood still for a few more beats; then a small nod. "Bye."

Meg watched as she hastily walked across the café and out of the building without so much as a glance backward.

* * *

The Charmile Hotel in Kinjing City, was where Jo was stationed to stay while on her mission. It was her cover – that and her name: **Jenny Peters**. She was a woman on a much needed vacation.

Jo leaned against the back wall in the elevator as she rode it up to the forth floor. It had been another hour before she was able to extract herself from the embassy. She was looking forward to a long hot shower and some jazz music.

The steel box 'dinged' waking her before she completely fell asleep standing up. She stepped out on to the plush carpet and made her way to her room.

She noticed a gentleman had come from one of the rooms. He closed the door and immediately began eyeing her. She gave him a quick grin that was not returned before continuing to walk around the corner and down a long hallway. It would be a few turns before she would reach her door and each time she turned, the man was right there.

 _Following me?_

She decided to walk to the laundry room, then stopped abruptly, startling the man and approached him. "Who sent you?"

The man looked her straight in the eyes; his face was a mere blank slate as he continued to stare at her.

"I said who sent you?!" Agitated, Jo stepped forward, getting in the man's face this time.

He stood his ground and answered in a language she didn't understand. Jo had been exposed to many different languages in her travels and assignments – even picking up a few. But this one was not familiar.

The man spoke angrily and started shouting. He flashed a knife that was tucked in his belt, then looked at Jo with a hateful sneer.

 _Great._ Jo moved back only to have the man move with her. "I guess we're going to have to play this dirty."

It was a quick move, the roundhouse kick that went straight to the face, breaking the man's nose. He grabbed it blinking in disbelief as blood dripped from it.

"Fuck you, bitch!" The man squeezed his nose, trying to keep it from gushing.

"That's better." Jo remained on guard, setting her feet wide. "You want to tell me who sent you?"

"Fuck you!" The man wiped his hands on his shirt, then lunged at the brunette.

Another hit struck him in the chest, sending the man to his knees this time. He sputtered against the wall.

Jo shook her head, bending her knees and keeping her hands up. "Now see, I was hoping we could do this the easy way because I've been kind of having a lousy few weeks on my vacation here."

The man grabbed his chest and caught his breath. "Uhhh… Fuck you!"

Jo grabbed the man's hand and bent his wrist and hand backward keeping him on his knees.

A cracking noise sent him further down. "Uhh... I'll kill you, you bitch!" Tears sprang in the man's eyes.

"That's cute considering the position you're in." Jo tightened her grip, pushing down and forcing a howl from the man. "Now… I'm going to ask one more time. Who sent you?!"

The man was breathing hard and sweating profusely. He gave her a disgusted glare before spitting at her feet.

Jo rolled her eyes, feeling her patience give out. "All right have it your way."

She released the man only a for a split second later, land a loud crunching blow to his head; sending him a few feet from her.

Unconscious.

She smirked, then dragged the man to the elevator, which was no small feat considering how far away it was. Once there she put him on it, propping his limp body up against the back wall. She held the door open then picked up the elevator phone and tapped in the number to the lobby front desk.

"Hi, yes this is Jenny Peters in room 418. I hate to tell you this but I was just assaulted on the way to my room." She said in a rather calm voice.

"Oh my G—are you alright miss?!" the woman on the other end sputtered alarmed.

"I'm fine. Luckily I know how to protect myself… the other guy though..." Jo peeked a look at the unconscious man.

The woman was breathing hard into the receiver. "Ma'am, we are so sorry. I'll have security come right up!"

Jo smirked at that. "How nice of you, but that won't be necessary." She pressed the lobby button and let the doors shut. "He should be arriving by way of the elevator to your front lobby there in about, three… two… one…"

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open revealing the man crumpled up in the back of the elevator. Jo could hear the woman gasp.

"Oh my God! John!" She waved the security guard over to the elevator. "We'll have this reported…Uh, th-thank you for um..." she was out of breath.

"No need to thank me, just do a better job with who you let in here," Jo stated, though she was quite sure the whole attack was planned.

"W-we will. Is there anything I can get you? Or…" the woman sounded winded.

"I'm okay," Jo ran a tired hand through her hair.

"Well, if there is please let us know Ms. Peters," the woman said, her voice full of remorse.

"I will. Goodbye." Jo smiled insincerely then hung up. She turned to make her way down the hall, checking behind her for good measure before arriving at her door. She took out her key card, letting it scan the pad before opening the door. _What a day_.

* * *

It would be Wednesday before Jo would be given a direct invite to the royal palace by the representatives for Empress Torana Milkino. She had been given a gold plated inscribed invitation, and now sat in a bullet proof limousine as it glided through the streets of Kinjing City.

She was picked up at the embassy where she had been given a quick lesson on protocol for conducting herself in front of the royal consul.

Jo had chosen to wear her hair down. A crisp dark blue pant suit with black shoes with a one inch heel completed her outfit. She had dusted on a hint of makeup as well.

The car pulled up to the palace, which was majestic, very ancient and trimmed in gold and onyx. Beautiful was the word that came to mind as Jo got out of the limousine. Her eyes were transfixed to the intricate details of the palace – there were golden lions and birds of different varieties engrossed in the architecture of the walls. Stone and onyx were mixed in with copper and diamond skirting that made up the huge archways. It was… magnificent. _Wow…_

The palace guards received her at the entrance and she was escorted down a long hall that was composed of ancient paintings, sculptures and military guards at each room's entrance.

She finally arrived at a grand archway. The entrance door was opened on both sides by two guards as the large heavy doors rolled back to reveal a long velvet carpet that directly led to a thrown on the other side of the luxurious room.

Jo felt her stomach crowd with butterflies at the sight. Meeting royalty was a big deal… indeed.

"Empress Milkino will see you now, Ms. Peters." The guard bowed and left the room; leaving Jo to wait. Her nerves were a bit frayed.

It would be a few more minutes before two guards entered the room. Between them was the Empress. She was dressed in a form fitting, cream colored dress. It stopped just at the knees, and she had her hair swept up with long tendrils of hair hanging down on both sides of her face. Dark hazel eyes greeted the agent, and Jo smiled, closing her mouth as she hadn't realized it was open.

She was… quite beautiful, Jo noted. Young… around her age. Jo smiled again as the woman's twinkling eyes greeted her.

"Ah, Ms. Peters it is a pleasure to finally meet you," the Empress reached out her hand and Jo gently took it, bowing slightly while holding the back of her fingertips close to her forehead.

 _I hope I did that right_. Jo straightened back up giving what she hoped was a genuine smile, but probably came off as a lopsided, goofy look. Oh well…

The Empress gave her an appreciative expression, then turned to her guards, quietly dismissing them. She waited until the inner doors were closed and they were all alone. "Agent Polniaczek," her smile widened.

"Thank you, Empress," Jo nodded back. She knew the empress had been informed of the embassy's mission and all of the personnel assigned to it.

"Wine?" Empress Milkino gestured toward a small table with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"No, thank you, Empress," Jo was careful not to allow herself to indulge even when it may be the polite thing to do. She knew her tolerances, after all.

Milkino smiled pleasantly. "Well. I think I owe you my sincere indebtedness, though I don't feel that would be sufficient enough for all you've done."

"If it's all the same, it was my duty and pleasure to serve," Jo countered smoothly.

The Empress nodded in understanding, "It was a dangerous mission that could've ended a different way… I have you to thank for saving us," she said, moving closer to the agent – observing her.

"You're welcome," was all Jo managed to get out.

They stood there for a while; the Empresses eyes never leaving Jo's. She pressed a small button on her wrist bracelet and spoke into it. "Please, bring the box."

A door opened, and a guard brought a small golden box to the Empress. She opened it taking out a medallion of some sort.

Jo shook her head, though she couldn't stop looking at the multicolored item. "That's not necessary," she said weakly.

"I insist," the Empress held up the chain the medallion was attached to. "It is our custom to award bravery and strength. You have displayed both," she placed the necklace in Jo's palm.

Jo turned it around, examining the beautiful stone. "Wow, it's beautiful," she looked at it with wonder. It was a rare item.

"It's a gemstone from our ancestors. It is very sacred," Torana beamed with pride. "Please keep it, it would be my honor."

Jo knew it would be an insult to refuse, and carefully tucked it into her jacket pocket. "I will. Thank you, it is an honor."

"Now, if you would please be my guest and dine with me in the main hall," Empress Milkino announced. She walked beside Jo as they made their way to the dining hall.

Jo admired the breathtaking décor as they strolled through the archways. "Your palace is very beautiful."

"Thank you," the Empress gestured for them to sit on large plush cushions on the floor as the food was being prepared to be brought out to them.

"Our ancestor's took great pride in keeping the palace in order and of course every artifact is original," The Empress winked at Jo, who blushed in return.

"How old is the palace? If you don't mind my asking," Jo shifted getting comfortable on the cushions. She had removed her shoes, intent on following the custom of dining without them.

"Several hundred years, though you'll have to excuse my ignorance on the exact number. My historian would probably be better suited to answering that question," Torana said a bit self depreciatingly.

She whispered in one of her servant's ears to bring fruit juice for Jo instead of wine for their meal. "I hope you like fruit juice, Agent Polniaczek."

"Yes, that's fine," Jo was relieved she didn't have to drink alcohol this one time. "And please, call me Jo."

The Empress nodded, "Jo…" a head tilt. "Such an interesting name for a girl."

Jo let out a laugh. "Well, it's actually short for Joanna," she clarified, placing her napkin on her lap.

"Joanna is a pretty name, but…" a pause, "Jo suits you better." The Empress smiled at her dining companion, "…and please, call me Torana."

 _I like her already_. Jo smiled back, "Alright."

Their food had arrived and Jo watched as her plate was piled on with various breads and meats. There was an assortment of fruits, cheeses and raw vegetables to choose from. Jo scooped up a bit of a new dish she didn't recognized and ate it… the taste of it hit her and she made a face before quickly covering it up.

There was a small giggle from the Empress who was intently watching her. "Millet. Or rather porridge of millet." She explained. "It's an ancient custom of ours to eat it when a battle has been won," she explained, and watched as Jo took a long gulp of fruit juice to chase it down.

Jo smiled faintly. "It's good." She coughed, trying to clear her throat.

Torana was still quite amused. "You don't have to pretend. The western pallet is usually not used to the tartness."

Jo waved a hand at that. "No, no it's um…" She insisted on not insulting the beautiful woman as she took another sip of juice. The taste _was_ truly tart.

"Our shores are full of millet, so we've managed to weave it into many things," the Empress ate a spoonful, lavishing in the taste.

Jo nodded and the two dined and eventually relaxed and discussed foreign affairs until dessert was brought out. Jo was actually glad it was something simple… toffee cake, with a scoop of ice cream. That was actually one of her favorite desserts. The two women sat back on the cushions, getting comfortable.

"I've noticed the beach on the northern island had several items of clothing wash up on the shore." Jo took a bite of cake.

"Hm." Torana swallowed some ice cream. "I thought that would've stopped by now," she said; concern etching her tone.

Jo paused before taking another bite of cake. "How long has this been happening?"

"Since we recovered the wreckage," the Empress said simply.

"Ah, another pirate ship?" Jo raised a knowing brow.

The Empress blinked at her. "Actually, no." she corrected. "A while back, I believe a year ago, a exploratory ship was attacked by pirates and capsized roughly a mile from the shore. They pillaged it of course," she paused, thinking of a way to say what she was going to say next.

"… at least twenty people died, several more were rescued. A few have chosen to assimilate into our society here."

She stopped again seeing the concerned look on Jo's face. "We do have a few who are in rehabilitation. We were glad to have been able to help them. They were rescued by our platoon," she reassured.

Jo sat her plate down, having finished her cake. "Where are they now?"

Empress Milkino quickly called for their dishes to be taken away. "They are in a facility on the third island. Very modern, has all of the comforts they are normally accustomed to," she smiled reassuringly at Jo.

Jo gave her a cordial, yet slightly confused smile in return. "Where are they from?" she felt slightly embarrassed for asking.

The Empress raised a startled brow, "I thought you knew?"

Jo shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not quite following," she let out a small self-conscious laugh.

Torana picked up her glass of wine, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she informed her dinner companion. "The ship was from the States."

* * *

"Have a seat, Miles."

David Warner had closed the door to his office. He felt more comfortable talking to Miles in the comfort of his own home; he had summoned him to come over after hours.

The tall, thin man took a seat in the chair facing the desk. He smiled warmly at the boat in the bottle that David and Russell had been working on. "How's Joyce?" he asked. He hadn't gotten a chance to see her lately.

David perched on the corner of his desk. "She's holding up."

"Good, good," Miles nodded, stretching his legs out a little. "So… Is there something new with the investigation?"

David took a breath. "Actually, I have a few questions I need to ask you."

Miles leaned back in his chair with a serious look on his face. "Alright."

David continued. "I need to be honest with you Miles. You know we were quite shocked at Barry's departure."

Miles had learned of his son's departure from the company through one of the board members who had spoken to David.

"So was I," the older gentleman said with sorrow in his voice.

"Have you heard from him?" David asked, hopeful.

"No. I'm afraid we haven't communicated at all." Miles admitted. He was bewildered at the prospect of losing yet another son. He wore a forlorn look at the thought.

David weighed the look on the man's face. He seemed believable. "What's going on Miles?"

Miles shook his head. "I don't know. I wish I did, but…the truth is…" he took out a handkerchief from his lapel pocket and wiped his top lip. "Barry became distant after Daniel died… We never talked much after that, other than business."

That had been hard for him to say, David granted. He felt a bit of sympathy. "I'm sorry."

Miles nodded and gave him a sad smile. "I'm an old man David. Losing Delores and then my son… and now Barry disappearing…" He bowed his head as an overwhelming sense of loss enveloped him.

David remained silent. He stood then gently placed a hand on Miles' shoulder. "Can I get you a drink?"

Miles wiped his face with the handkerchief, shaking his head. "No…no..." he attempted to gathered himself together.

David went back to sit on his desk. "Look I don't want to pressure you, but I need you to find Barry."

He heard the desperate tone in David's voice, and Miles looked up into concerned eyes. "I've tried. I've had a detail looking for him," he explained.

"He couldn't have just disappeared," David huffed. This was going nowhere.

Miles held his hands up then dropped them. "I don't know what to say."

David nodded. He tightened his jaw, the stress of the situation was becoming insurmountable. "We have a bigger issue." He saw Miles look at him in question, then decided to go full speed ahead. "He took the money, Miles."

That was met with slow recognition as if he didn't hear correctly. "What?" the executive slid to the edge of his chair.

"I couldn't tell you until I was certain, but it looks like he knew where and how to steal it." David was hoping the man could shed some light on that. How on earth could Barry obtain that information… especially after Miles had assured Joyce it would be safe.

Mild shock was etched on Miles' face. "Oh my w-word, my, my…." He looked at David, realizing. "Dear me, Joyce can't find out!"

"I know," David crossed his arms over his chest.

"It would be too much for her, David!" Miles persisted.

David agreed to that. He was thankful to Miles for looking after his mother's well being. "I know, Miles. Our biggest problem is finding your son and getting the money back." David watched as the board executive struggled with the new information.

"Oh my Lord…my goodness…I am so sorry, so very sorry…" Miles let his head rest in his hands.

"Miles, you have to help us find him," David had lowered his tone as he watched the man try to temper his greif.

Miles let out a sob. "I'm so disappointed, so... I—"

David let out a regretful breath. He hated this… hated having to deliver bad news of any kind… and to Miles… a trusted family friend. He was entrusted by his father and David often put much stock in his opinions and judgment. But to see him so lost… so small… "Miles..." He spoke softly.

Miles struggled to speak. "Look. David… I knew both of my sons were… unfortunately a bit over zealous when it came to money and the possibility of making more of it – to say the least…" He trailed off.

"You don't have to take up for them, Miles," David regarded the man with dignity. "My father trusted you."

Miles accepted that, but he couldn't shake the feeling of letting the family down. "I promised to take care of Joyce… take care of the company."

"The company will be fine, but losing that much money and to have it tied to my company should it be used in something illegal, well…" David faded, then contemplated the outcome of that. _Not good_.

"I won't let that happen!" Miles snapped, "David, you have my word. We'll find Barry and straighten this whole thing out."

Miles' over anxiousness was getting the best of him, and David was starting to feel unnerved; but he had no choice but to trust him nonetheless. "I'm counting on that, Miles."

* * *

The last month of the year… otherwise known as the fourth fiscal quarter for Warner Textiles Corporation. It was the first week of December, and it had been another couple of weeks before the new divisional presentation was ready. They'd postponed it twice. Thanksgiving had come and gone as the weather took a turn to head for winter.

But now they were ready.

Dressed in their business attire and armed with files, Blair and Emily along with four other department managers, had headed into the conference room where a boardroom full of interested members had awaited them.

Blair and Emily found themselves in front of the board, hammering out the details of their project. They'd both done well with the numerous fact checking questions and bold statements made to challenge their premise. They were drilled thoroughly, especially about the financial side of the project. Their preparedness proved to be beneficial as each held her own - taking up a solid defense for their projections and forecasts.

After two tedious hours it was over. The big doors of the conference room burst open as Blair and Emily exited the room, along with various board members.

"Blair, nice job." One of them had addressed her. The older gentleman had been quite impressed with her performance.

"Thank you, John." She had been extremely nervous at first, but after Emily had given her presentation, she'd calmed down and took the reins like a pro. "I'm hoping we can get approval to move forward?"

John let out a cautious laugh. "Well, we'll look at your numbers; but if everything goes according to plan, I don't see why the first phase shouldn't get funding."

That earned the man a grateful smile. "That sounds wonderful, John." Blair had at least gotten the ball rolling, though there was still much work to be done.

The man grinned then excused himself, and Blair turned to made her way over to Emily who had just finished chatting with another board member, over by the snack table.

Blair poured a cup of coffee. "Looks like we may be starting the first phase soon," she blew on it, taking a sip.

Emily bit into a grape. "I was just talking with Nadine Banks. She said the first phase is the test phase. If we do well there, they'll guarantee the funds for the next phase." Emily grabbed another handful of grapes.

Blair liked the sound of that. "We'll have to make sure everything goes according to plan then," Blair let a sly look grace her face. She loved a good challenge and getting through the first step proved to be a challenge worth engrossing herself into.

Emily nodded in agreement. She had been completely blindsided at Barry's departure, and was quite upset at him for leaving her in the balance. Blair had gone out of her way to personally see to it that she didn't have to do any re-work; often staying up late nights and working long days.

Emily smiled at the blonde. She liked working with Blair. At first she'd thought the young woman would have to be trained in the intricacies of the business and the office of president. But Blair proved to be a fast learner and, she had to admit, a very good leader. "We'll at least take Christmas off, right?"

Christmas was on a Monday this year, and all executives were taking the week off for the holiday. It was the company tradition, and one David, Sr. had insisted everyone adhered to.

Blair lifted a brow. "I didn't realize the holidays were so close." She'd been buried under reports and finalizing the presentation, but now that that was over…

"Do you have plans, Blair?" Emily caught her attention.

"N-no…" Blair thought for a moment, "well… my parents," she shrugged. "A few days at the mansion with Nana. Mother will be in Italy, and my father's flying to Belgium, so I was thinking of going to the slopes for a while." She and Meg had discussed going, but nothing solid was confirmed by either one of them.

She looked at Emily. "What about you?"

Emily made a sour face. "Don and I are going to his mother's for the holidays, in Hartford," she finished blandly.

"Oh," Blair drank a bit of coffee. "That sounds nice," she guessed Emily didn't feel the same way, judging by the way she had screwed up her face. Blair stifled a laugh by taking another sip of coffee.

She had finally made her way back to her office, but not before informing her team they'd been given the green light for the first phase of the project. That was followed by an impromptu party that had been somewhat planned beforehand. She'd stuck around for a bit to celebrate with them, before finally excusing herself.

Blair settled back in her comfortable office chair. "Oh, this feels wonderful…" It was a great companion after such a stressful afternoon.

The sun had already begun to descend as the colder months yielded little daylight in the late afternoon. She turned, setting her elbows on the chair arms, letting her arms loosely dangle, and absorbed the dimmed rays that were streaming in. The city was cold and the steam from the numerous building's rooftop furnaces pumped out heat and steam… swirling, and twisting steam heat…

She'd almost fallen asleep when a soft knock sounded on the door. Blair sat up as another knock sounded again.

"Come in," she shouted across the room.

The doorknob twisted and Blair watched as the door slowly swung open. A fuzzy, brownish, red and gray head of hair peeked in.

At first Blair didn't recognize the face then, "Charlie?"

Charlie Polniaczek looked around the office in wonder. "Geeze-a-loo…" He stood in the doorframe for a moment looking at the decor.

Blair had Paul decorate the space, finally. She'd been most happy when he informed her one of the local design magazines wanted to feature her office space in a photo shoot. She'd was more than happy to comply and even gave him a huge recommendation… it was the least she could do. She wanted him to be happy with his new husband.

She stood and walked over to Charlie, who was still obviously affected by the Warner building in all its glory. This was quite an unexpected visit. Her stomach feeling a bit unsettled at seeing him. "Charlie, hi."

"Blair, I had no idea you were this high up," Charlie looked at her with wonder.

Blonde brows knit with question. "Are you uncomfortable being on the 39th floor?"

Charlie scoffed, staring at Blair uncertainly. "Course not. I meant ya' fancy president digs," he clarified.

He walked around the office taking in everything up close: the desk, the fancy wall paper… _and look at that view, whoa!_

Charlie stood at the window, his head moving back and forth taking in the view. It was the first time Blair had noticed his cast was gone _._ Of course it would be. The last time she'd seen him was months ago when…

She blinked it away, taking in a breath. "Was there something you wanted to see me about?"

Blair crossed her arms over her chest. There was another question… one that was nagging her, and seeing that Charlie had come all the way to her office, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous that something wasn't right. Blair pursed her lips and steeled herself for what she was about to ask.

"Is Jo okay?" She'd said it as offhandedly as she could manage, and an internal sigh of relief was sounded when she heard:

"Course she is, why wouldn't she be?" Charlie shrugged. "You girls keep in touch."

Charlie had his back to Blair and didn't see her eyes close in relief. _Okay, well that's final._

Blair moved closer, wondering the reason Jo's father had come to see her in the first place. "What brings you here Charlie?"

The man had his hands on his hips looking out over the expanse of the city when Blair's words finally permeated the confines of his ears then brain. "Ah, geeze," he snapped his fingers as he turned around and gave the patient woman an apologetic half smile. "Almost forgot… be right back."

Blair watched with great curiosity as Charlie left the room only to come back with a large rectangle item… a mirror or painting perhaps? She guessed.

"What's this?" Blair pointed at the brown paper that was meticulously wrapped around it.

"It's Jo's," a smile. "I mean it's _from_ Jo," Charlie quickly corrected himself, feeling a bit emabrrassed. "To you," he smiled a little dumbfounded.

Blair took a step closer, then reached out and fingered the paper. She had to admit she was curious about what was under it. "What is it?"

"A painting," Charlie set it down; carefully leaning it against the chair in front of Blair's desk. "She wanted you to have it." That was met with an surprised eyebrow lift. "For your office, I'm thinkin'." Charlie guessed.

It wasn't like Jo left instructions. She had just said 'give this to Blair once you get the cast off'… and of course, he'd promptly forgotten… until today.

"Well," Blair put her tongue in her cheek. "Thank you, Charlie."

Charlie watched as Blair circled around her desk and sat down. She began picking up a few papers, stacking them, then looked up at him. "Was there something else?"

Charlie looked at the painting then at the blonde executive. "Wha… You're not gonna' open it up?"

Blair sat back in her chair. "I will. I'm just a little busy right now." That was all she was willing to say about that. She waited, and saw the indecisive look on Charlie's face before he decided to drop it.

 _Whateva' …women_. "Well, I'll just get outta' ya hair then." He turned to leave.

"Charlie, wait…" Blair got up and approached him. She realized she was being rude. No need to be rude to him, she surmised. "I'm glad to see you've gotten your cast removed," she glanced at the foot in question.

Charlie looked down. "Oh, yeah… couple a months ago," he said proudly.

Blair nodded. "I'm sure that's a relief," she smiled.

"Yeah, it is," the man let a grin spring onto his face. "Matta' a fact, I'm goin' back on the road," Charlie announced.

He was glad to be able to get in the rig and drive, somewhere, go anywhere besides being stuck in Jo's apartment. With Jo gone he'd been feeling a little lonely. Thanksgiving was mostly just him and Ace. Now, two weeks before Christmas, his boss had informed him they were short fleet drivers and had a lot of packages to deliver. He'd jumped at the chance.

"Oh, really?" Blair sounded surprised.

"Yep." Charlie rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

A beat passed between them. They'd both sensed it. The unspoken shift in their relationship. "Well, I'm sure that will be great for you, Charlie." Blair patted his arm, then turned back toward her desk.

Charlie watched her. "Hey… ah… are you okay?"

Blair tilted her head as she sat down. "Yes, why would you ask that?"

Charlie shrugged. He couldn't quite put it to words, but he sensed some stress coming off of Blair that normally wasn't there… _could be her job, though_. "Nothin'. Hey I know you gotta' stressful job and all that, so I'm just gonna' leave you to it."

Blair watched as he made his way across the room. She sighed. "Charlie?"

The scruffy haired man turned as he reached the door. "Yeah?"

"Thank you." Blair said sincerely. She really did feel an affection for the man. It was something she couldn't shake no matter the circumstance. "For the painting."

Charlie opened the door. "No need to thank, me. Thank Jo. I'm just the delivery guy," he winked at Blair.

Blair managed to let a pensive smile work its way to her face. Charming Charlie. "I will," she heard the words come out of her mouth, but she really felt the words: ' _some day, maybe'_ shape her thoughts… those she rarely brought to the surface as of late. She still wasn't willing to respond to it.

She watched Charlie leave, then sat staring at the painting. She admitted she was interested in seeing it… until an almost overwhelming sense of dread came over her.

Not today… today was the start of something new. The first phase of her project had just been given the green light. Yes, concentrate on that. That was what was important, not some silly old painting from…

 _Her_.

Blair quickly went and grabbed it, taking it to the closet that was beside the small powder room she had installed in her office. She placed the painting inside of it and closed the door.

There. Where it belongs. Out of sight, out of mind.

* * *

David Warner had made it to the conference room where agents Summers and Nelson were waiting for him.

"I'm glad you could make it, Mr. Warner," Agent Nelson sat at the front of the table.

"You said it was important," David said guardedly. He looked between the two agents as he got comfortable at the table.

He had been in the middle of a meeting when he'd received the text. He had consequently, quietly excused himself. The ride over was nerve racking as the text was vague. "Please tell me you've located Winstead."

Agent Summers opened her file. "We've located him," she paused seeing the look of utter relief on David's face. "The FBI is in the process of bringing him in."

David was almost on the verge letting out a strangled cry. "Where was he?!" he managed to keep himself together.

"We are not at liberty to discuss that information with you at this time, Mr. Warner," Agent Summers glanced at Eric.

"All we can tell you is that he was _not_ in the United States," Eric stated somberly.

He knew that bit of information would be touchy for David. Whenever money left the company and went outside of the domestic boarder, things could get a bit tricky. David understood this completely.

He reached over and grabbed a bottle of water, taking a much-needed drink. "He has my company by the balls here," he stated gruffly.

It was the direct truth. If Barry used any of the money illegally, the company could be implicated for whatever he was up to. That thought alone made David squirm.

"I want him prosecuted, if that was any question," David locked eyes with Eric whose facial expression was one of full acknowledgment and agreement.

Eric pursed his lips. "We fully expect you to press all necessary charges."

David got up and began to pace. "When will they have him back here… in the country?"

"Few days," was all Eric was willing to divulge. He knew Warner was impulsive when it came to his company… and money. "We will be interrogating him here."

"We?" David eyed the lead agent tentatively.

"Agent Nelson and I have been granted special clearance from the FBI to work on the case," Summers replied before Eric could. "They plan on interrogating him in the States."

David looked between them. "Why? I thought you guys were secret service. What does this mean?" He sat again waiting for an answer.

"Our division is locally based secret service, however because we are IT, our branch is often utilized by the FBI," Eric explained. "Everything's computer based now-a-days," he gave a small grin. "Welcome to the new age of technology and safety from the government."

David nodded demurely. "What's _your_ role in this?" he crossed his arms, listening.

Eric made a grimace and rubbed the back of his neck. "We won't know that or have any idea until they interrogate him, Mr. Warner," he paused. "Until then, we will keep you posted on what our next steps will be."

It was stated with finality. Eric had even given him an indication that the meeting was over. David cleared his voice as he shook the agents' hands. He dreaded keeping it all to himself. He couldn't tell Miles. Not now. Not the details, it would kill him.

David stood. He felt drained and weak from the prospect of yet another process to get through… without informing his daughter. And what of her safety?

Still. He had to trust Eric and the agents. He turned and faced them before walking out of the room. "What about my daughter's safety in all of this?"

Fair question, Eric admitted. He had not a clue of what Barry Winstead was capable of. He still didn't quite understand the connection of why he would steal that much money, and 'if' he would even hire someone to threaten the company.

Eric decided to play it evenly. "Once we find out what Barry Winstead's motives are and what he has planned, we'll let you know."

David really had nothing more to ask or say to that. Deflated, he bowed his head once in acceptance and left the room.

Eric walked over to the long rectangular window, hands in pockets. He looked out over the city in thought.

Agent Summers regarded him for a moment. "What are your thinking on this?" she was curious to know. Usually Eric was more forthcoming about specifics. He was unusually quiet today.

"I think we need more bodies on this," a beat. "From our side of things."

Summers agreed. "Mendoza could…"

"He's staying in Gragon for now," Eric replied. "He wanted an extended stay through the holidays," he explained.

"Oh." Was all agent Summers said. She didn't dare mention who she thought would be a good fit for the case… not dare mention…

"Agent Polniaczek," Eric said. He took in a breath.

He didn't want to admit the severity of this case was a factor in his motivation, but… there was no other way. No better person more suited for this.

Agent Summers waited for a second, then, "I agree."

It didn't have to be spoken. It was obvious, and Eric turned. "Let's start setting things up."

Summers moved to exit the room, then turned and looked at the lead agent. "I fully support you on this, if there's any question."

Eric nodded. "I appreciate that," was all he said as he watched her leave the room. He turned back around and took a few more moments. Traffic was starting to pick up and rush hour was beginning early today. It wasn't the first time that day he'd wondered if he was doing the right thing. He picked up his pad and pen from the table; then turned off the lights and closed the door waiting for it to automatically lock before he went to the elevator.

 _Time to contact General Barber_.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Thanks to Z for her excellent beta skills. I've appreciated all the reviews, critiques and comments on the story this year - you all have just been wonderful and kept me thinking as well as laughing. Scondrel73 and Roar - (chapter 13 and Mrs. DePalma's garden of herbs.)... weed indeed, as I didn't realize that could have been the case when I wrote it. I had a good laugh though, you guy's rock ;)**_

 _ **Chapter Notes:**_

 _ **For reference: Season 8 "Out of Peekskill" episodes 1 &2, may give you perspective.**_

* * *

Jo had finally made her way through the embassy's grid locked security. She barged her way into the room where Mendoza was busy working. He was pouring over a file when he heard her come in; cup of coffee in hand.

He eyed her. "You bring me one?"

Jo looked at her cup then back at him. "You never said anything," she stood for a second then thrust the cup at him. "Here,"

Norm batted it away, smiling. "Just kidding," he chuckled.

Jo smirked then sat down on a cold steel, rolling stool. "So what'd you find out?" she wheeled herself closer to the monitor.

"That piece of cloth you gave me…" he pointed to it sitting by his computer monitor. He had just gotten it back from forensics.

"You have any information?" Jo picked it up, rolling the soft material through her fingers. The small red strip of cloth was some kind of woven cotton, she guessed. It was smooth, yet heavy.

"The material's from a scarf." Mendoza brought up the report from forensics. "They were able to trace its origin to Italy, Rome to be exact. It's from the house of Valentino." He scrolled down the report. "As far as what it's made of… the fibers are cotton and a blended assortment of—"

"Hold up..." Jo had to stop him. "Let's not run down all that, just give me the good stuff, Norm."

He cracked a grin at that. "Glad to skip it," he scrolled down again. "Here we go," he scanned the page. "Looks like the scarf was sent to the States to a place in New York."

Jo leaned forward looking at the screen. "What place? A store?"

Agent Mendoza scrolled down until he found what he was looking for. "Here it is… Sacks Fifth Avenue."

Jo nodded. "Now we're getting somewhere," she thought for a second. "Do we have a buyer?"

Norm clicked a screen, then scrolled the report. "Yep, sure do."

Jo leaned forward reading the name... then read it again… _It couldn't be_. She sat back shocked, staring at the screen.

Norm turned and looked at her. She looked ashen almost. "Hey, you okay?"

The brunette remained silent. She swallowed then looked at Norm. Her eyes had started to form unshed tears. "I-I…um…"

"Hey do you want to stop?" Mendoza watched as Jo stood and wiped a hand over her face a couple of times; shaking her head. "Jo, are you okay?"

She had her back to him. Her body was almost bent over and she hugged herself... trying to hold it together… for whatever reason, whatever she read on that report seemed to induce a strong reaction… perhaps something she wasn't ready for.

"Jo…" Mendoza's voice was gentle.

"Give me a second," her voice cracked. She wiped at the tears, turning around to be met with concerned eyes. "I'm okay…"

Norm nodded slowly keeping his eyes on his fellow agent. To be truthful, he'd never seen her fall apart like this. "What happened?"

Jo pointed at the computer screen. The name on it, she read... then, "Dr. Bruce Gains," she said quietly. She let her hand drop.

Mendoza looked back at the screen. The name of the person who bought the scarf was indeed _Bruce Gains_. "Do you know him?" he asked carefully.

Tears started to well in Jo's eyes again. "I know him," She made her way back over, taking a seat.

The room was pretty quiet, aside from the whirling of several computer terminals. There were several of them lining the walls. They were in the recovery room… recovery of forensic information. Or better known as the hard truth room.

Jo took in a shaky breath. "We promised we wouldn't talk about it… what could have happened...until we knew for sure... but..." she faded again. "...We… I never thought there would ever be a chance…" she stopped, looking at her colleague with anxiousness.

Norm reached over and grabbed a napkin he had from his morning doughnut bag. He handed it to Jo. "Here."

She took it. "Thanks," she dabbed her eyes. "Sorry…"

"Hey, don't apologize," Mendoza gave her a supportive smile. "This is obviously something deep you have to face," he reassured.

Whoever this person was, they had greatly affected Jo in a profound way. He didn't want to press the issue, but instead waited for her to come forth with whatever information she could provide.

"Yeah, okay I'm not falling apart or anything, "Jo managed a sullen smile. She hated pity of any kind. She balled up the napkin, then threw it on the desk. "It just caught me by surprise is all."

Norm nodded his head in understanding. "Whenever you're ready to provide the information, Agent," He was in no hurry.

She needed to hear that. To remind her she had a duty, a job to do. "I, uh… he um.." Jo tried to begin again.

Mendoza's brow creased. _This is serious_. "Jo who is this guy?" he hated to persist but this could be a significant link to the case.

Jo steeled herself before saying the name… it had been a while; and if there was any chance, any way that… She looked at Norm, her expression one of sadness and mostly heart felt desperation.

"He's Edna Garrett's husband…"

* * *

Tootie had gone over the last line many times, finally getting it to stick. She mouthed it as she made her way to the kitchen.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Anderson, but the floral department is closed," She opened the refrigerator taking a peek inside. "I am so sorry, Mr. Anderson, but the floral department is closed," she repeated, this time with more emphasis on 'floral.'

She got out a bottle of water. "…the _floral_ department is closed…" she took a sip, "…is closed…it is closed, the _floral_ department."

The doorbell rang and the actress was almost glad for a small break. She looked through the peephole then pulled the door open to find Meg standing there with her arms full of a barking Gigi.

"Meg!" Tootie smiled at them both.

Meg gave her a distressed look, "Oh, goodness, Tootie. Thank God you're home," she switched Gigi to one arm.

Tootie cooed at the little dog. "Hi sweetie, hi… oh yes, you are a sweetie…" Tootie looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry. Come on in."

Meg shook her head. "Tootie, I need you to do me a favor," she said anxiously.

Tootie noticed her agitated state. "Are you okay?"

Meg made an uncomfortable face. "I need you to watch Gigi for me. Joyce is in the hospital…" she informed.

Tootie's eyes rounded. "Oh my God! Is she okay?"

Meg shrugged, frustrated. "I don't know, Tootie. We were downtown, she wanted to go window shopping so I wheeled her into Tiffany's and she fainted in her wheel chair as soon as we got inside," Meg took a second to adjust Gigi in her arms, the little dog was squirming. "I called the ambulance and they've taken her to Mount Sinai, but we had Gigi with us, so I couldn't ride with her."

The rest was evident, she didn't want to go to the hospital with the little dog. Tootie held out her arms to take Gigi. "I'll take her, don't worry about a thing," Tootie looked at Meg. "Does Blair know?"

Meg nodded, allowing Gigi to transfer over to Tootie. "I told her, she's on her way over to the hospital."

"Oh good," Tootie said. "You go, don't worry about Gigi… and please let me know what happens," She reassured Meg.

"Thank you, Tootie. I'll be by to pick her up shortly, as soon as I get everything situated with Joyce," she smiled a thank you.

"You're welcome," Tootie smiled back. "Oh and Meg?"

Meg raised a brow. "Yes?"

"I'll be praying for Joyce to be alright," Tootie hugged Gigi to her chest.

Meg gave Tootie a tiny hug. Gigi barked and licked Meg on the face. She patted the small Pomeranian on the head, then smiled at the actress. "Thank you. We're thankful for all the prayers we can get."

Tootie watched her leave then put the little dog down on the floor. She checked her watch only to remember she had rehearsal in thirty minutes. "Oh, boy, what to do with you," she told Gigi.

Gigi jumped up on the couch and barked before whining and wagging her tail.

"Okay Gigi," Tootie rubbed her head. "Will you be a good girl until auntie Nat comes home?" she looked at the clock, Natalie was late today. "She'll be here any minute."

Tootie had a few minutes to get ready to go to rehearsal. She walked into the kitchen and got out pen and paper, writing down instructions for Natalie to give Gigi water until Meg returned.

"Yip!, Yop! Yip!" Gigi got up on her hind legs.

Tootie smirked. "Well now look at you, _Miss I Can Do Tricks!_ " She made her way over to the sofa and kissed the dog on the nose. "Your mommy has trained you well."

Tootie went back into the kitchen to fill a bowl full of water from a filtered pitcher they kept in the fridge. Gigi was spoiled… or was that her owner? Nonetheless, the rule was: no city water for Gigi.

Tootie sat the bowl on the kitchen floor beside the refrigerator. "There you are Princess Gigi."

That earned her a thankful bark. Tootie went to grab her purse and left the apartment, locking the door and leaving the television on. For some reason it seemed to calm Gigi down whenever Blair brought her over – which had been all of two times since they'd moved in.

* * *

 **Central Park, _NYC_**

 _I couldn't even get my foot in the door and here I sit_. Dog sitting. Natalie pulled her knit hat down over her ears. She was agitated as she threw a stick for Ace to fetch for the twentieth time. She was freezing and sat on the hard wooden bench throwing the stick further each time when he brought it back – the little dog returning it with fervor each time.

She'd barely had her key in the door to the apartment building, when Charlie Polniaczek pulled up in a cab. He had Ace with him and asked if she could watch him for a couple of hours before Rose came by after work, and picked him up. He had to report to his job and had a rig he needed to see about.

 _Something like that_ , Natalie mused. She had decided it was better to put Ace in her car and head for the park, _now_ , before bringing him into the apartment.

The Jack Russell plopped the stick down beside her feet. "C'mon boy. Time to go home. You've pooped and peed all over central park enough." She reached down and attached his leash. "And don't try to drag me you little runt."

"Whoof!"

"Did you just get smart with me?" Natalie looked down with a stern face. They started making their way back to the car. "I think you just sassed me… bad boy, if you did."

"Whoof!"

Natalie had guided Ace to the back seat of the company car. He stayed put for the most part; looking out of the window, occasionally barking as they maneuvered traffic. They finally reached the apartment and made their way to the door. Natalie got out her key, pausing she realized: "You don't have any food here do you?"

Ace looked up at her and whined; his tongue hanging out as he panted. "Whoof!"

"So you agree," that earned her another bark. "Tell you what, I'm going to go get you some dog food because your dear old grandpa' forgot it," she rubbed his head. "However, they don't let dogs in the grocery store and I can't leave you in the car because it's a company car and you look like the type of dog that wouldn't care about that and pee on my steering wheel anyway."

"Whoof!"

"I'm glad you agree," Natalie opened the apartment door and bent down. "Now, Ace, be a good boy for Aunty Tootie. She'll forgive me later for dumping you off on her, but we'll just be on our best behavior for now, right?"

"Whoof!"

She unhooked his leash then left, making her way to the store. She was intent to make it back before Ace could do any permanent damage to the apartment.

Stopping at a red light, the reporter cracked a self satisfied smile _. Tootie will just have to suck it up._

* * *

Jo looked around as she waited in the General's office. She sat facing his desk. The room smelled of old brass and wood. There was a large, wavy US flag on one side of the desk and a similar sized US army flag on the other. She stiffened a bit as the door opened, and the General swiftly came into the office, a file in his hand.

"Agent Polniaczek, it's a pleasure," he noticed Jo start to get up to greet him. "No, no please sit," he made his way around the desk and took a seat.

Jo eased her way back down. She smiled at him. "Good to see you, Sir."

General Barber undid the middle button of his military jacket. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Agent?"

"I need to put in a request to be discharged from duty on the case, Sir," Jo decided to get straight to the point.

She saw him grimace at the request. The older man sat back in the leather chair and crossed one leg over the other. "I need you here, Agent. If we discover another mine, I don't know how long we have until things can potentially become fatal."

That much was true, and Jo knew it. Still, she felt a small lump form in her throat. Conflict was a strong emotion, and she felt it tenfold at the moment.

Agent Mendoza had confirmed the worst. The ship that had been seized by the pirates was from the States as the Empress had informed her. It had been on a Peace Corps mission. The material, a scarf, was purchased by Bruce Gains and subsequently, he was on that ship… as was Mrs. Garrett.

It was to be a romantic adventure, only to turn into a tragic nightmare. Norm was working on finding out what became of Bruce and Edna (Garrett) Gains; not knowing if they were amongst the survivors.

It was nerve racking to say the least but Jo felt compelled to return home. Also, she had to admit… she needed to go home. If there was anything the past two days had taught her it was that time and life was precious. Wasting any of it was foolish and enjoying each and every day with the people you love was something she'd missed dearly. Being constantly on the road… constantly moving from case to case, was no way to really live.

She looked up into the steel gray eyes of General Barber. "Sir, I—"

"Hold on a second, Agent," General Barber had forgotten about the file he'd brought in. He opened it. "I was just handed this by my secretary."

That piqued Jo's interest. "What is it?"

"From your superior officer," Barber turned the page.

Jo cracked a small grin at that. _Superior officer_ was military speak. "Do you mean Agent Eric Nelson?"

Barber looked up, his face was no-nonsense. "Yes, Agent," he read the report. "Seems they need you back in the States to work on a potential case," he tightened his jaw and turned another page. "Doesn't really go into any specifics," he put the file down. "I'll give him a call. In the meantime hang tight; I'll inform you of your status once I speak with Agent Nelson."

The general twined his fingers together on the desk. "It could take a while to confirm your status either way." He looked at Jo squarely. "I'd really hate to lose you Agent Polniaczek."

Green eyes had barely blinked. Jo was speechless and sat back feeling half hopeful. Her heart skipped a beat and she wore a dumbfounded smile on her face; not really caring how she looked.

She barely acknowledged the Generals last remark. "I understand, Sir," was all she could manage to say.

* * *

Agent Nelson came into his office hastily, file in hand. He noticed David Warner had been patiently waiting.

"Mr. Warner... sorry to keep you waiting," he closed the door.

Taking a seat at his desk, he noticed David hadn't said a word. He had his head down, and he was still wearing his top coat.

"Mr. Warner?" Eric tried again, this time getting the man's attention.

David looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and his focus seemed to be wavering in and out. He was clutching his hat with both hands as he aimlessly looked around the office.

"Please tell me you have good news," he managed to say hoarsely.

Eric knew to go delicately. He arranged his thoughts before speaking. "We have new information concerning Barry Winstead."

There was a heavy sigh and David looked away nodding his head. "Alright."

Eric paused noticing a slight odor of alcohol. The toll this whole case was taking on David Warner was understandable. It was hard to witness; when a client started to lose faith. It didn't help that they had just received the worst kind of information… and to have to now inform the client...

Better to go full speed ahead. Agent Nelson jutted his chin out as he opened the file. "Barry Winstead is in the custody of the FBI. For the last 9 hours they have been interrogating him."

That seemed to sober the situation as David focused in on the information. "Where is he?" piercing eyes shot daggers. "I want to see him!"

Eric shook his head, keeping his voice tempered in a calm manner. "Mr. Warner, he is in an undisclosed location."

David stood abruptly. "I WANT TO SEE HIM!" he almost lost his balance as he stormed over to the edge of the desk. He beat his hands on the surface. "LET ME SEE HIM! I'LL KILL HIM!"He growled.

Eric shot out of his seat. "Calm down please, Mr. Warner!"

"You calm down!" David pointed a harsh finger. "He's trying to destroy my company!" spittle flew from his mouth as he challenged the lead Agent. "I'll be damned if I let that happen!"

Eric stood his ground. "We are doing everything within our ability to make sure that _doesn't_ happen, Mr. Warner." He looked the man straight in the eye. "You'll have to trust us."

David was breathing harshly as he stared at the agent. His face was red and the veins on his neck stood out – the crisp white of his shirt collar was gray and drenched in sweat. They locked eyes in a game of wills for a few moments, until the CEO of Warner Textiles finally complied. Nodding slowly, he took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow, taking a seat.

Eric was glad David Warner had at least made an effort to hear him out. He watched and waited until David calmed himself down, then continued reading from the file.

"From the interrogation, it has been confirmed that Barry Winstead has…" he paused, taking a glance at David, "…hired a trained hired gun targeting executives at Warner Textiles." Eric stopped, letting that bit of information sink in for a bit.

David closed his eyes in misery. "I knew it…" he said solemnly, "I knew he would come after us." He bowed his head.

Eric's brow puckered. "Do you have any idea why he would do this, Mr. Warner?" He asked frankly.

"Revenge," David said flatly and bitterly.

Eric leaned back in his chair. The information they'd gathered on the Winstead's was still inconclusive and they had kept it from the investigation… until now.

He knew about the boating accident five years ago… about Daniel's infidelity and Amanda Polmero's subsequent relation to him. But… he wondered… _did David_?

"For his brother, probably…" David divulged. He figured the FBI knew about the boating accident by now.

"What about him?" Eric asked. He was intrigued to know David's take on it. His side of the story.

David sighed heavily. "We had a fishing trip a few years back. Daniel and Barry got into a fight and Daniel went overboard," David looked at the agent. "I'm sure you all have seen the police records. No one was indicted. The case was closed as an accident. No body was found."

Eric knew it was best to stay silent on this one and let things add up on their own. He simply nodded, then gestured for David to continue.

David leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Barry was supposed to be next in line after Daniel as far as being named president of Warner Textiles. But Russell was named, even though he didn't want it."

"He didn't want to be president of Warner?" Eric hiked a brow, truly intrigued now.

David smirked. "No, he was appointed by my father, right before he died."

 _Also five years ago_. Eric pursed his lips. It was known that David Sr. was a smoker and drank heavily, he'd died of a heart attack. But still… the timeline was questionable considering the timeframe of the two deaths. "Go on please, Mr. Warner."

"After Russell died Barry made his frustration known… at least to me," he stopped, wondering if he had gone too far.

Eric pushed further. "How so?"

David weighed his next response. "He would complain to me about Blair… about her being too young, being too inexperienced," a beat. "I think Blair was picking up on a few whisperings around the office about her being named president and what others thought about that."

True. Blair had indeed heard the whispering about her being named president. It had deterred her from taking the chair at first.

"I told her to ignore the rumors." David managed to smile at that. He knew Blair would be a good fit. But now… with the new information about threats to the family finally being confirmed by the FBI?

"I see," Eric rubbed the back of his neck.

"He wants her out doesn't he?" David asked the most dreaded question he could think of... someone wanted Blair removed from her position... at any cost.

"Apparently." Eric read through the file again. "At this point, until we can nail a true motive from Winstead, I would suggest Blair have maximum security."

David blinked at agent Nelson. "What does that entail? I have a crew guarding her now." he said.

Eric put the file down. He wanted to at least give David a small branch of security. "It means, we need to make sure all departments, systems and personnel are guarded," he paused, "from the inside." Eric let that bit of information sink in.

David slowly nodded his head in agreement as he thought about it. "I'm following," he said gruffly. "How do we do that?"

Eric opened his top drawer. "I've been working on that," he took out another file. "I've been working with the FBI on a new case for the protection of your company that involves person to person protection."

David stared blankly at that. "Could you be more specific?" It made sense on the surface.

"Inside the company we will have agents involved with monitoring all systems and personnel," Eric took in a breath. "To assign Blair maximum security I will be appointing an agent to work closely with her."

"Jo," David blurted out. He looked at agent Nelson expectedly.

Eric blinked, "Well actually..."

"I don't want anyone else but Jo Polniaczek guarding my daughter," David sniffed. "I trust her. She's the best for making sure my daughter is safe."

Eric waited a few seconds to make sure David was finished before replying. "Actually, I was going to suggest the same thing."

Eric had been slow to admit that. She wasn't his first choice, he also admitted. His biggest reservations concerned her _personal_ involvement with the client.., especially given the most recent events. That he would talk to her about during her briefing. He'd been very hesitant at first, but every which way he'd turned it, it just made since to put Jo on the case. There was just no better person for the assignment. He would have to gamble that this time the outcome would be to stop the threat to the Warner family, without losing one of his best agents.

"I'm glad we at least agree on that," David said.

"You'll need to hire her full time," Eric informed. "She needs to be close to Blair, as well as have access to the systems," he held a stern look. "I cannot tell you how important it is to monitor all computer systems now that Winstead has hired help."

So much was on the line now. David thought for a moment, glad at least his daughter would be in good hands, and with someone he trusted. He also realized in order to get Jo acclimated into the company he'd need to hire her... full time. His eyes widened as he sobered a bit. "The new division."

"What new division?" Eric questioned. "A new project?" _Could work if he's thinking what I'm thinking._ He glanced at the CEO.

David was almost sure it would be a good fit. "I'll hire her as the new divisional head of IT for the new project Blair is working on," he smiled realizing it just might work. "She has a habit of running paper through the system, management hates that, but it's an old law school habit of hers. To leave a trail," he glanced at Eric with a conspiring look. "Jo could help her get her project off the ground more efficiently."

Eric remained silent, thinking it over. "I think that could work." He made a note of it. "Is there an office she can use to make this whole thing look legitimate?"

Just so happened there was, David thought. "Right across the hall. Used to be Barry Winstead's office," David was smiling genuinely now. "It would be perfect."

Eric scribbled a few remarks in the file before standing and making his way around the desk. David stood as well, and the two shook hands.

"Thank you for helping us again, Mr. Warner. I'll be getting back to you once Agent Polniaczek is ready for re-assignment." Eric nodded, then made his way to sit back down.

David was used to the abrupt way Eric ended their meetings. Still, he was a little confused. "What about in the meantime? What's going to happen to my—" His phone chirped, "I'm sorry." He glanced at it realizing it was a text message from Meg saying that Joyce was fine and had been released from the hospital and on her way home.

David breathed out a sigh of relief. He had been in a meeting when he'd received the news about Joyce. He went to the hospital only to be summoned to JTI, and left without knowing his mother's diagnosis. It was proving to be a stressful turn of events for him and he'd taken to a few drinks in the limousine to calm his nerves along the way.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Warner?" Eric had been watching him. It looked as if something was at least going right in the man's life.

"Everything's fine…" he typed in a reply. "…I um… my family," was all he supplied as he put his phone in his coat pocket.

"I understand," Eric said. "In the meantime, we have a shadow crew on the case. We feel this will be sufficient until we can get Jo and other agents into corporate headquarters," he supplied.

"Good, good," David felt a little better about the situation, although not fully satisfied. "I still have my team looking out for Blair as well as other family members."

Eric nodded. "As soon as my crew is in place we will no longer be needing your personnel," he was serious. "This is too dangerous of a case to risk anyone other than _our_ personnel," a breath. "I'm sure you understand."

That was met with firm eye contact. David felt better knowing Jo would be on the inside. Guarding his daughter was the top priority. He internally sighed a bit of relief; like a little of the weight had been lifted. "Perfectly."

* * *

"Here we gooo… Aunty Nat's baaack."

Natalie shut the door with her foot, her arms weighted down with bags. She looked around the front room. No sign of the little guy. "Ace?"

She put up a few groceries then filled a bowl with dog food. She looked down noticing the water bowl by the refrigerator. It had been emptied.

The reporter smirked. "Tootie, you could've at least refilled Ace's bowl," she said to no one. "Typical… don't tell me you forgot because you had to rehearse…" she listened, the apartment was quiet… almost as if she was the only one there. "Tootie?"

Erie silence. Huh. Natalie went to her bedroom, "Ace?" She looked under the bed, no sign of him. Closing the door she went across the hall to Tootie's room. She knocked on the door. "Tootie?"

No response. Natalie opened the door, "Tootie?" she wasn't there. Great, Ace has been all over the apartment no doubt. She put hands on her hips. "Speaking of which… where are you little guy?" She went back to the front room, pausing as she circled the couch... then gasped.

"Oh my God!"

Natalie put a quieting hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that so loud, but… there over by the Television were Ace and…where did that other dog come from?

The two dogs were asleep… wrapped around each other. There was an occasional ear twitch but they were practically clinging to each other. Natalie turned her head sideways looking at the two intertwined… almost as if they were in an embrace, she thought.

"What the hell am I saying?!"

She got closer, not quite able to make out the other dog lying slightly under Ace. She got down on her hands and knees when it became apparent. Especially from the cutesy little doggie collar:

"Gigi?!"

Natalie quickly stood up. "Tootie, what the hell have you done?!" Then she thought, how the hell did Gigi…she slid her eyes over to the two dogs… you little slut… no, no that's not right…

Natalie went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "This is crazy." She opened it taking a long swig, then noticed Tootie's note on the countertop. She read it and everything became crystal clear.

Leaning back on the countertop she realized she needed to call Meg and find out about Joyce. She took her phone out of her pocket and dialed the number. She peeked again at the two sleeping beauties. "Look at the two of you… shame…" She noticed Gigi lick Aces nose in her sleep and that earned a small ' _awww_ ' from Natalie.

They were cute she had to admit. Ace moved his head and Gigi laid hers down on top of it, as the two snuggled in. Natalie let a small smile work its way to her face as she watched them.

"You two have more sense than your owners."

* * *

Meg gently closed the door to Joyce's room and made her way to the grand room.

"How is she?" David asked. He was over by the bar. It was after hours and he had changed into a polo shirt and a pull over sweater. He was eating peanuts and sipping on ice water while reading one of his favorite golf magazines.

"She's sleeping." Meg walked over to him and took a seat at the bar. She looked over at Blair who was sitting beside her, completely consumed by her phone. "Are you okay?" Meg asked concerned. This was turning into a regular habit.

Blair looked up, "I'm great." She smiled. "How's Joyce?" She went back to typing.

Meg and David locked eyes, both smirking. Meg glanced at Blair's phone for good measure. "Resting. The medicine the doctor gave her will keep the fluid from surrounding her heart."

Meg would see to it. Being her in-house nurse, she saw to the daily routine of getting Joyce to eat and take her medicine. Also, she felt compelled to keep everyone calm about Joyce's diagnosis.

It was getting worse, her heart. The fluid would be kept to a minimum with the medicine but… the doctors said that was all they could do considering her age. This had been said before, however, three years ago and Joyce, being a fighter, had stayed stable. She was a fighter.

 _Typical Warner_ , David thought. "She's a tough lady, she'll be fine," he said as he sipped his ice water.

Blair agreed. "She's a natural fighter," she added.

"You mean because she's so demanding?" Meg teased.

"No. Because she's a Warner," David said with a chuckle as he turned the page of his magazine.

Blair tilted her head. You can't argue with that. "Touché." Her phone chirped and she looked down at it. "I'll go and pick up Gigi," she told Meg. She typed in a response. "I'm sure Tootie and Natalie are tired of her by now."

Blair gave them a polite smile, then exited the room. She went out into the hall and looked around, not seeing any of the staff, and quickly made her way down the hall. She then made a right turn into a small opening between the back stairs and one of the servant's quarters. Her grandmother used to use the room as her sewing room before her arthritis forced her to stop sewing.

It was a small room… somewhat out of the way from the rest of the house and quiet. It had a back door that led to a small garden. The door was knocked on two times and Blair walked across the room to open it.

There stood a small balding man holding a briefcase. He nodded a brisk hello as Blair let him into the room. She sat at a table and turned on a lamp that barely illuminated the room. The man, still in his coat, sat at the table and waited.

He watched as Blair stood and made her way over to the window. The moon was full and the light from it beamed through the window, lighting her face on one side, the other side painted gray with the shadows of the room.

"Do you have the information?" She asked, her hands were clasped behind her back as she kept her back to him.

The man opened his briefcase and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He slid it to the other side of the table. "This is all I have for now."

Blair took in a nervous breath and nodded her head. She turned, eyeing the paper for a brief second before walking over, and taking a seat.

"Is everything there?" she asked again… maybe wanting to hear something she could hang hope on…

The man nodded. "It was all I could find, Ms. Warner. I hope it will help."

Blair eyed him. He seemed sincere and she pulled out a slip of paper from her skirt pocket, then took out a pen and signed it. She slid the check over to the man, who grabbed it and put it in his briefcase.

"Thank you. I will contact you," Blair watched as the man closed his briefcase then stood.

He nodded his head again and left the room, shutting the door behind him. The room was silent for a moment and Blair sat still, both hands were flat on the table. She sighed then slowly moved the paper into her sight, the light on the table was small. She placed the paper under it and read it.

 _Here we go_.

It was a list with two columns. One column had the names listed as: confirmed dead. The other column was listed as: not confirmed… she read it first, scanning all the way down the list. She closed her eyes letting out a sob as the very last name was what she had been waiting for… what she had hoped for…

Finally.

 _Edna Garrett_.

* * *

The wind picked up as a few snowflakes made their way to the cold pavement. Flurries had been called for the weekend, and that had made shopping even more adventurous in the city. Patrons came and went from the various restaurants and stores as they prepared for the holiday.

They had agreed to meet at the café five years ago… when Jo had left for California. They had agreed to meet right there at Florenza's in _their_ booth…

No matter what. Even if they had missed their regular monthly meetings, this one was special…

It was eleven-fifty two on Christmas Eve. And even though one or more of them had Skyped in their presence if they couldn't make it – there was still technically the four of them there… well except for last year when Blair had made herself scarce and sent a card instead.

Not this year... Jo was unable to be reached in such a manner; being out of the country.

Blair had barely made it herself, arriving at eleven, but nonetheless she had slid into her side of the booth – facing Natalie and Tootie.

They exchanged presents and ordered hot cocoa with marshmallow's (spiked with a bit of gin). It was their usual ritual. The café had a few patrons, but it was mostly empty on the eve of Christmas.

"Here's to the four musketeers." Tootie held her cup up, hoping to clink it with the other two. Natalie raised her cup, as did Blair. A very bland toast it was.

"C'mon guys, its Christmas Eve," Tootie was ever the optimist. "Where's your spirit?"

Natalie put her cup down. "In my cup, Tootie," she deadpanned then took a sip.

"Why such a Grinch, Natalie? I mean we've been doing this every year for the past five years. We exchange gifts, drink hot cocoa then go home and sleep it off," Tootie raised her cup again then took another drink.

"You're barely old enough to be in such good spirits, Tootie. I think it's gone a little to your head," Blair giggled.

"Besides, it's not the same without all four of us," Natalie said. She felt a bit let down that Jo hadn't at least sent a card or something to let them know what she was doing for the holidays.

Blair ran a hand through her hair, ordering it. "We'll just have to get used to it being the three of us Natalie," she popped a marshmallow in her mouth.

Tootie lifted a haughty brow. "I'm not worried guys," she ate a marshmallow. "Jo will be here."

Natalie snorted a laugh. "Oh, well I feel better now! Tootie said Jo will be here, so that must be true." She said sarcastically.

Tootie smirked at her roommate. "You should have more faith, Natalie. You're so skeptical of me." Tooie stirred her cocoa.

"Quit whining, Tootie," Natalie gave her a sour face and rolled her eyes at her friends assessment of her. "Jo's a no show…" she looked at her watch. "Two minutes guys."

Blair was almost finished with her cocoa. "I might have another before I go, these are good," she looked into her cup, then hiccupped.

Natalie took a sip of cocoa and made a face. "It's strong… a little stronger than I'd remembered, though," Natalie added. "The gin's a little strong."

Tootie giggled. "You said _strong_ three times," she leaned on Natalie's shoulder.

The watch on Natalie's arm chimed. _Twelve midnight_. The three women sat in silence as the clanking of dishes and pots and pans echoed from the kitchen.

The snow had picked up tempering the night, making it seem hallowed and quiet…

"Merry Christmas." They all said at once, then laughed.

It was a happy feeling… a melancholy feeling as they clanked their cups together one last time before downing the last of the cocoa.

Tootie looked up blinking several times as a lone patron had entered the restaurant and moved toward them. Focusing, she let a warm smile grow on her face. She absentmindedly tapped Natalie on the shoulder as she was trying to get the chocolate from the bottom of her cup.

"What?!" Natalie looked over at Tootie, agitated. "What Tootie?" She noticed the smile and stare her friend was sporting and turned her head, finding what she was looking at.

Natalie put her cup down slowly, a companionable smile of her own forming. "Either this is a group illusion or I truly don't give you enough credit, Tootie." She said in amazement.

Blair snickered. "Or we're all just plastered." She daintily put her cup down and wiped her mouth.

Her two tablemates hadn't said a word… they just sat there dumbfounded, with silly grins on their faces. Blair rolled her eyes, then moved to turn around and fully see what they were gawking at.

Slowly…

It felt like she was moving in slow motion at least. There was the slightest hint of a change in the vibe of the room as her peripheral vision brought into line something familiar. Her mind had just barely registered who it was, as her smile faded and her eyes fully took in the form…

Clad in a black leather jacket, biker boots, a red scarf and a knitted, red Santa hat. The smile was unmistakable – a little lopsided, and shy. Blair's eyes widened as they looked down; held in a hand was a small box wrapped with Christmas paper and a tag that said: _to Blair_.

Brown eyes locked onto Green, and Jo dipped her head for a moment before bringing it back up.

"Merry Christmas."

* * *

 **Happy Holiday's fellow 'FOL' fans and readers! Welp, things are really developing for Jo and Blair & company in the coming new year, so get ready. I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and a happy new year :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Notes:**

 _ **Red phone - for the sake of this story only, is a mobile phone that police, P.I.'s and Agent's use when under cover.**_

 _ **The National - A gossip rag type newspaper... totally made up.**_

 _ **Induce - as it relates to this story only: means to use a drug to erase memory of the past 24 hours; also totally made up.**_

* * *

 **A new year with new revelations... Thanks to all the reader's and reviews!**

 **Thanks Z, for your help. This was a long one :)**

* * *

 _Three more minutes_. Blair wiped the perspiration from her brow with a linen handkerchief she had clutched in her hand as she jogged at a respectable pace on the tread mill.

Exercising was a morning 'first' activity. At least, such was the case for many of the Warner executives the first week of January. The company gym was at its peak capacity as New Year's resolutions were attempted to be kept… or at least _vainly_ attempted. It was Blair's ritual to a least start the new year off with good intentions.

Especially considering the way it ended.

Shock was not the right word… nor was surprised… more like frozen or perhaps pitiless. Whatever it was, it was enough for Blair to bristle at first seeing Jo at Florenza's. She had promptly excused herself from the booth. She was already slightly intoxicated and didn't trust that she'd conduct herself appropriately.

Natalie and Tootie had begged her to stay; but… without so much as a glance toward the brunette, Blair had seen to getting Hamilton to bring the car around and swiftly take her to the mansion.

Jo had let it go… let _her_ go. She knew the manner she had chosen to make an appearance was unexpected. She knew things would take time, and she was resigned to letting that work for her instead of against her this time around.

"Blair, good to see you starting the year off right." Emily, clad in brand new spandex running pants and a hot pink trainer top, had stepped onto the treadmill beside her and punched in her running course and duration.

Blair glanced at her own timer, one more minute. She nodded her 'hello' to Emily. She felt way too winded to hold a decent conversation at the moment. Blonde tresses were haphazardly splayed on her head as her ponytail had failed to keep most of it under control as she bobbed along.

The timer chimed as her jogging regimen was over and the cool down started. Blair slowed her jog to a fast walk, then dabbed her glistening neck and chest. "How was your holiday?" she addressed the red headed Vice President of Advertising.

Emily gave her a thumbs up. "Wonderful, as soon as we made it back home."

Blair laughed. "That's usually the case." She knew of Emily's rather strained relationship with her mother-in-law. She often complained about the woman's pension for telling her how to cook and keep house.

Blair excused herself and headed for the change room, but not before her phone chirped. She had attached it to her armband. The text was from her father calling for a meeting after lunch.

Probably about the new division, she guessed She entered the room and went to her locker. She had been anticipating this meeting; possibly green lighting the project, finally. The thought of starting something fresh and new actually filled her with a sense of content, and she quickly showered and changed before heading to the office with sense of purpose.

* * *

God it felt good to ride the Harley. Never mind it was tweleve degrees and the whipping wind felt like acid on the skin. Jo had zipped herself into leather pants and a leather jacket. She donned a pair of leather gloves as well as her signature red helmet, and breezed along the streets on her way to work. Traffic was harsh on a Monday morning, as it usually was, no matter the time of year. She parked her bike in the employee parking lot and headed up to Agent Nelson's office.

Upon entering the building, a few agents greeted her and gave her congratulations on her successful mission while over in Gragon. She endured it with fortitude.

She first went to her office and dropped off her helmet, then rode the elevator up to Eric's office. Jo tapped on the door, receiving a muffled 'come in.' Entering and seeing Eric on the phone, she took a quick seat.

He smiled at her. "Yes, I will see that it gets done, thanks."

Eric tapped his phone off then got up from his chair and took a seat on the edge of the desk. "Well," he laced his fingers together. "It's good to see you Jo."

Jo was well aware of how they'd left things… she had talked to Eric a few times while on assignment overseas, but this was the first time she'd seen him since storming out of his office the day she'd left for Gragon.

"Good to be back." She gave him a genuine grin.

"I just talked to Dr. Wells' office. They said for you to stop by and get your blood work done." Eric said.

Jo let a reluctant sneer curl her lips. She hated needles. At least they'd be sticking her once and not filling her up with preventative vaccines. It was important for agents who were exposed to tropical regions to be tested if they were exposed to any of the elements. Jo had been on the island long enough to qualify.

"I was headed there next," she informed.

"Good," Eric reached over and grabbed a file, opening it he read the top lines. "New case." He eyed the brunette.

Jo put her tongue in her cheek. "I figured as much," she said. She hadn't been briefed on the plane returning to New York… which was odd considering Eric's tendency for full disclosure. "What part of the world this time?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a little on guard. She had resigned to Eric wanting her to stay out of New York for obvious reasons. She still felt annoyed by that but, well… this was her life now, she'd reasoned.

Eric waited for a moment before answering. He knew he would be essentially reversing himself now. However, the circumstances were dire, so the need for humility was appropriate. He made a point of looking at the file and reading from it.

"Agent Polniaczek, you are to be on full assignment at Warner Textiles Corporation." Eric looked up into green eyes that were staring at him… they hadn't responded. "Effective immediately."

Jo sat still, arms tightly crossed as well as ankles, and gave Eric a blank look until it hit her. Her eyes softened then squinted as if trying to understand. "What?" she said in a soft disbelieving voice.

Eric cleared his throat. "This is a very important case, agent," he started to explain.

Jo blinked, trying to follow. "Wait, what happened?"

"Barry Winstead is in full custody with the FBI." Eric watched as Jo stood from her seat and approached him.

"Before I left, you told me he was responsible for taking the money but what does that have to do with me being reassigned to Warner now?" Jo asked, confused.

She had been officially off the case when Barry Winstead had disappeared but there was something else… "Eric what's the reason I'm back here?" She gave her superior a concerned look.

Eric decided to get right to the point. "The family's being threatened, Jo."

She eyed him. "Is it a _real_ direct threat this time?" She had to ask. Last time the threat wasn't verified.

"Winstead has hired persons to carry out a mission to target the family," Eric said with compunction. "FBI is handling all interaction, we're on information."

Jo closed her eyes. _Not good, not good, not good_ … she shook her head, feeling dread. "God, Eric this is what we didn't want." She ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

"Look, Jo, we have agents on the inside monitoring all systems and guarding personnel." Eric tapped on the report file. "This is very urgent."

Jo nodded, then took a few moments to think. She, herself, had been personally attacked on the elevator while in Kinjing City… "Did you find out anything about my attacker?"

Eric nodded. "I was just going to inform you." He went around the desk, sitting, he brought up a file from his computer. "Your attacker was hired by Winstead."

"Great." Jo had to wonder. "Why me?" or better, "how did they find me?"

Eric smirked. "Two good questions. During the interrogation Winstead said something about your being careless with your equipment." Eric peered at Jo. He saw the slightly guilty look. "Do you have any idea what he was talking about?"

She did. And it was careless. Her phone had been more trouble than it was worth that day. Jo lightly cleared her throat before talking. "My first day at Warner..." she said grudgingly.

And it made sense. She'd been blocked from going upstairs to the board meeting. Mendoza and Summers had taken her phone that was inside of her briefcase up to the meeting and apparently, somewhere along the way, Barry Winstead had intercepted it without their knowing.

"He got to my phone." She realized.

"How?" Eric asked.

Jo compiled her answer before speaking. "It was in my briefcase, I forgot to take it out before," she paused. "When Blair had me removed from the building I realized that and…" She purposely left it at that. He knew the rest anyway.

Eric nodded. He was frustrated, no doubt. This was what he was afraid of: Jo's distracted nature when it came to all things Warner related. "Jo that was dangerous."

"And not like me," She aptly pointed out.

Very true, and Eric knew it. Jo was normally one of the most responsible agents he had come to depend on. "Alright, look, water under the bridge. He couldn't get anything from your phone other than it's a red burner."

"Yeah," Jo said. "No doubt that targeted me." She thought, "…and explains why he wanted to bump me off the road."

Eric grunted at that, then clicked through his file. "Good news is we were able to bring back the guy who attacked you in the hotel," he eyed her. "You did some real damage to him," he said with a small grin. "They have him in custody... guy's not saying much."

Figures. "This isn't good, Eric. If Winstead was trying to take me out, then it's only a matter of time before…" she stopped herself, realizing the obvious benefactors being the Warner family.

"Exactly," Eric said, clicking down the file. "David Warner wants to hire you full time," he blurted.

Okay. That was new. Jo hiked a brow. "How much does Warner know about this whole thing?" she asked.

"Everything," Eric said. "I informed him not to tell Blair or Miles. Not while the interrogation is still going on."

Jo started pacing with her hands in her pockets. "So I'm being hired to do exactly what over there?"

"Work," Eric saw the slightly 'not amused' face. "There's a new project that needs IT support," he finished.

A brown brow crinkled. "So... he wants me to head up the project?" Jo had deduced.

Eric sighed. "It's actually Blair's new division." _Let that permeate._ He watched his lead agent grasp the magnitude of that.

Jo had stopped in her tracks. Blair's project. She was confused as to why Eric wanted her on the case given the reason he'd removed her last time. "Who's idea was this? To put me on this case?" She had to know.

Eric sat back in his chair, the parts of it creaking as he did. "Mine... well…" he paused, "…and David Warner." He finished.

Jo sighed. It was a lot to take in. "Mr. Warner wants me to work with Blair?" She needed clarification on that.

Eric watched as careful and tentative eyes tracked his way. He could see the conflict in them and he wished more than ever he had a better person to fill the position but… he just didn't.

"I want you to work with her, Jo." He'd said it carefully. This was a dire situation.

She straightened. "You do." That wasn't a question. Jo had seen Eric change his mind during a case and reassign agents before. She never thought she'd be on the receiving end of that. "Why?"

Fair question, Eric conceded. "Because you're the best I have," he frowned a little at that. "And because David Warner doesn't want anyone else to look after Blair. He trusts you."

Jo remained quiet, letting the whole situation order itself in her mind. She took a seat and leaned forward running both hands through her hair, then propped her chin up on clasped hands. "How do you feel about my working with Blair… I mean knowing… about…"

"That you have feelings for her?" Eric bit the inside of his lip. "I don't like it one bit. It goes against everything we stand for as far as Agent client relationships go but..." he shook his head realizing. "You're the best person for the job."

Jo felt the weight of those words. She didn't want Eric to feel he couldn't count on her. She knew David Warner trusted her. And Blair… Oh man, what a mess she'd made of this whole thing. And now her life was in immediate danger.

She looked up into eyes that had been carefully watching her. "I can do it." She stood, "I can do this Eric." Green eyes held a determined glint.

Eric's face was still and remained pensive. "I know you can," he stated factually, scribbling a few notes in his file. "You need to make some decisions however."

"Concerning?" Jo was listening now.

"Your relationship with the client," Eric minced no words. This was cut and dry... get a handle on your emotions. "You need to get control of it, Jo. I cannot tell you how important that is." Eric reminded her.

"I know," she said. "Lives are on the line here, you think I would risk that?" she gave her superior a hard stare.

Eric returned the stare in kind. "I would hope not," he said, then finished going through the file and exited it. He turned and watched as Jo visibly tried to relax a little. "What about Blair? How'd she take it when you left New York?"

Jo sighed. She had purposefully neglected to tell Eric about that. A strong feeling of regret floated through her before she shook it off. A shrug. "She's not speaking to me."

Eric nodded, understanding. That was par for the course. "Because you left so suddenly?"

Jo twisted her mouth a bit. "Yep." It still hurt.

"Ride that wave Jo." Eric had picked up on her discomfort. "If she's mad at you, stay in that zone," he reiterated.

Jo blinked. She knew what he'd meant. Keep her on your bad side, it may save her life. _Understood_. But how hard would that be once they started working together again?

"I saw her at Christmas." A breath. "She's still mad at me," Jo said softly. It was a conflict she had carried with her for the entire two months she was in Gragon. The guilt and the pain she'd caused the woman she cared deeply for.

 _Good_. Eric thought. "You know what you have to do." He stated in a final tone. He picked up the file. "Now, let's go over the specifics. David Warner wants you over there at one o'clock today for an informal meeting to introduce you to your team."

 _I get a team?_ Jo looked at the head Agent. "You mean I start today? That was fast." She angled her head, her eyes glued to the file in Eric's hand.

"We have no time to waste, Jo." Eric opened his top drawer taking out a packet with her new badge and phone. "Don't lose this one." He said, handing it to her; seeing an unsmiling face in return.

Jo stuffed the phone in her pocket and scoffed. "I'm more concerned about getting through security at this point."

* * *

David Warner tapped his phone off and set it on his desk. He had finished conversing with Eric Nelson who told him Jo was back in town and agreed to be on the case. In addition, she would be coming to the meeting at one.

He leaned back... thank goodness. He heard a light tap on the door, unmistakably Blair's.

"Come in." David was sitting in his high-backed leather chair; he smiled when he saw his daughter's head peek in. "Blair, I'm glad you could take the time."

She made her way over to him. "I was in a meeting and you said it was urgent." She took a seat. "What's going on?"

David twisted his chair back and forth a little, watching Blair. Where to start. "It looks like you're getting the funding for the first phase."

That was said with earnestness, and Blair knew her father was serious when he followed it up with a smile.

"Really?" she cocked her head a little in disbelief. "I mean… I'm glad you got back to me so quickly, I thought it would take another week." She let an excited smile work its way to her lips.

David rested his hands on the desktop. "Well, they looked at the numbers and it seems everything added up well enough. They want to see where you take this." He followed up.

Blair practically gulped. She felt almost out of place. _We have a green light_. "I'll let my team know."

David nodded, "You do that." He watched as Blair struggled to contain her excitement. "Also, I have to let you know the board is releasing the funds for supporting the division."

The blonde beamed. "That's what we wanted." She made a mental note to arrange a meeting around that.

"The division is going to need IT support," David stated carefully.

A nod. "Of course." Every division had IT support of some kind.

David could tell the wheels were turning in his daughter's head. She was no doubt piecing together a team and units for the departments. "You'll need an entire department," he said slowly, gauging her reaction.

Blair was still in the midst of formulating her own strategy when she heard: "I'm hiring a divisional leader for the IT department."

Blonde brows knit for a moment. "Is that really necessary? I thought our department was good enough."

David shook his head. "They're out sourced. We're opening an entirely new division; we need in-house contact. Besides, we'd stretch our current department too thin," he stated firmly.

Blair sat silent. She couldn't disagree with that. "They're going to fund an entire IT unit for this project?" she was puzzled now.

"No," David took in a breath. "Just a small group of about four people… with a director, of course."

"Divisional head," Blair corrected.

"Actually, a director of IT," David was adamant. It was important the title of an executive was placed at the head of Warner's in-house IT department.

"Okay." She didn't mind what you called them, as long as they could do the job. Blair crossed one leg over her knee. "Who did you have in mind? Because I have a few candidates that would be perfect for the job, and I'd rather work with someone I know will be a good fit for this project," she finished, hopeful.

David had been waiting for an opening. "I know the two of you have butted heads in the past, but seeing the last project you worked on turned out so well... I think _Jo_ would be a good fit."

He remained smiling… even when he saw the facial changes of his daughter go from hopeful to shocked, to angry. Oh no.

Blair rose from the chair. "I don't think that would be a good idea at all Daddy!" Her eyes flashed with accusation.

David's brow crinkled. "Why not?" He studied her angry expression speculatively, trying to gain some sense of understanding. "Another fight between the two of you?" Blair looked pained almost.

Blair put balled fists on hips, ignoring the question. "Why would you hire Jo? She's never been part of a major corporation. Is she even qualified?" she asked critically.

"She has extensive experience in building and supporting various systems, Blair." David stood his ground. "Not just educational ones. I've seen her resume."

Okay, so that wasn't entirely true. Jo would be the director of systems. Her team would essentially be doing the groundwork. But, since Jo had an in-depth understanding of the accounting and organizational systems of numerous companies she'd worked with in the past; she would be a great fit for Warner… and most importantly, no one would suspect her otherwise.

Blair stared, unimpressed. "Jo's a computer analyst for a small company. What does she know about running an entire department?" She quirked an eyebrow.

Plenty, David thought. He frowned. "Why don't you give her a chance?" He saw Blair actually stop and perhaps consider that... he hoped.

She drew a hand through her hair. "This is a important role Daddy. We need people who can hit the ground running not play catch up. She's not qualified." Blair crossed her arms; determined to maintain a ridged opinion.

David smirked disappointedly. "Let me be the judge of that," he said; noticing his daughter hadn't budged. "I think we should give her a chance." David grumbled at the brooding behavior.

A small pout. "I don't like it," Blair said defiantly.

David sat back, deciding to take another approach. "Remember when you thought the whole board was out to prove you weren't qualified? Not to mention a few executives..."

Blair pursed her lips at the thought. I know what you're trying to do.. _._

She couldn't tell him the real reason she didn't want to work with Jo. That wouldn't fly for a second. _Well you see Daddy, Jo broke my heart so I'm writing her out of my life._ She sniffed indifferently at the thought. It was one thing knowing she was back in town… and quite another knowing she'd have to work with the woman she…

…still had feelings for.

Blair smoothed out her skirt with careful hands... this was important. This project was _her_ baby. **Hers**. She looked at her father. He was waiting for her to say something. "You're not going to let up on this are you?"

David gave her a sympathetic expression before replying, "Nope."

Blair sucked in a lungful of air and held it as she closed her eyes. I'm going to regret this, but I'll be damned if I let Jo Polniaczek ruin all of my hard work. She opened her eyes. "Fine."

David smiled. "Good." He watched as Blair moved with purpose toward the door. "We meet at one, don't forget," he announced to her back.

Blair turned and smirked at him before closing the door, rather tightly.

David chuckled, then sobered. "I'm just making sure you're safe, Princess."

* * *

There were about twenty people in the conference room. All of the preliminary plans were laid out for the first phase as a starting point. The meeting went well. Jo had been introduced to the small staff of four people she would be working with. They'd all introduced themselves and actually carried on a light banter throughout the meeting.

Blair had taken the floor for most of it. She had been forthright and very focused throughout the entire process. Not once did she address the IT department; leaving Jo to wonder where she fit into the grand scheme of things.

After the meeting was over, David had informed Jo of her role. He'd arranged for her office accommodations and gave her a card to accept the scan pad on Barry Winstead's office door. The office walls had been freshly painted and a new set of office furniture was arranged in the room. Jo thanked him as the doors swung open and they exited the conference room.

"I hope you'll feel comfortable working with Blair," David said half-jokingly. They were friends, after all. He couldn't imagine the two of them holding whatever grudge they had throughout the entirety of the project.

"We'll be fine, Mr. Warner," Jo tried to calm any reservations. She snuck a look at Blair who was busy talking with Emily and two other executives.

David got closer to Jo as he whispered, "Just make sure she's safe, please." He leaned back and grinned.

Jo eyed him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

The executive elevator dinged as two shapely legs carefully stepped off onto the plush carpet of the 39th floor. Blair rounded the corner and was reading a report going over a projection, when she almost bumped into someone.

"Sorry." Jo grabbed her wrist to keep her from plowing into her.

Blair looked up startled. "What are you doing here?" She shook her wrist from Jo's grasp. "The IT department is two floors down," she said with a slight sneer.

"I know. I just came from there," Jo smiled, "My office is right here," she pointed to Winstead's door.

It would've been comical, the widening of Blair's eyes as she realized what her father had done. "This floor is for executives." She let an arrogant look style her features.

"So I've heard." Jo held up her badge and dared the blonde to say anything.

There were a few ticks of silence as they stood there, unmoving... looking at each other. Blair was the first to break eye contact. "Why are you doing this?" She'd said it softly, almost miserably.

Jo sighed heavily. "Doing what?"

"Here." Blair flailed an arm. "Being here," she said despairingly.

Jo looked down for a split second. "Your dad hired me," she said faintly.

Blair couldn't argue with that. For whatever reason her father had wanted Jo, of all people, to fill mighty big shoes. She shook a doubtful head. "Do you really think you're qualified for this?" she asked with a mocking scoff.

Jo knew what she was getting at and she straightened. "Are you doubting my abilities?" she hiked a challenging brow.

Brown eyes challenged green right back. "Oh, I'll give you a chance to prove yourself."

"You have nothing to worry about." Jo actually welcomed the test.

For some reason that seemed to rub the president of Warner Textiles the wrong way and she actually got a little closer to the brunette. Jo had to blink a few times, not sure of what Blair was up to.

"Tell me. Do I have to worry about you abandoning this project if another one comes along? Because if I do, you should tell me now and save me the trouble of having to fire you!"

Blair held a contemptuous face, and Jo had to quickly wrap her head around the implications… and the condemnation. But really... could she blame her? "I get it," she said warily.

Blair kept her eyes hardened. "Do you? Because for the sake of your job, I hope you do!" She abruptly turned and went into her office.

Jo followed her closely, and shut the door behind her. "I said I understand, Blair. What more do you want from me?!" She watched as Blair heavy handedly booted up her computer then grabbed a few papers; stacking them harshly, one on top of the other.

Jo felt her patience wearing thin. "Blair?!"

Blair slammed the papers down. "How about an apology?!" She gave the director of IT a scathing glare; then grabbed a few papers that had escaped the pile. "You could start there!"

Jo put her hands on her hips, not really trusting herself to talk. So many emotions were hitting her all at once. She decided to go with the first thing on her mind. "Why should I? Huh? I'm sure Amanda was there for you."

It was impulsive... probably a stupid thing to say, Jo gauged from the absolute heated look she was receiving. For Blair's part she remained silent, knowing how that stressed the brunette out. She finished gathering her papers calmly. "We're not seeing each other anymore." A pause. "I broke it off."

 _Oh._ Jo could actually feel her lips go dry. She licked them, breathing hard. Her eyes glanced up as she could hear the harsh breathing from Blair as well. She felt her eyes water a little and took a second to look around the office. It looked different. She returned her gaze to the woman before her, then... slightly bowing her head, she closed her eyes. _She deserves an apology, it's the least I can do_. "I am sorry." Jo felt her throat tighten.

She looked up to see brown eyes… beautiful brown eyes, ones that she'd hurt, form unshed tears. The look on Blair's face was there because of her. She took a tentative step closer to the desk; noticing Blair had chosen to stay seated... perhaps to put much needed space between them.

"You left me..."

It was said with such a small voice, and Blair avoided the green eyes she could feel fixed on her. "You just…" she tried to hold in a sob that escaped, "… left me."

Jo's eyes were shining with tears. "But I came back," she squeaked out. Her eyes were pleading for some form of sympathy. It was hard... so very hard to hide the truth, sometimes.

The fear of losing someone proved to be an endeavor of the heart which was not Jo's specialty by far. But those two months away... of being on a deadly mission only to barely make it off that island and then realizing what was most important... Jo glanced at the woman in front of her, who'd blocked her from all forms of communication. She had felt hurt too. "You shut me out," she sniffed, her voice was fried.

Blair looked up, then held back tears as a new surge of anger coursed through her. "You gave me no other choice!"

Did I? Jo had to think about that. Of course she did, and she felt damned guilty about it. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. "Blair..."

Blair shook her head harshly. "You gave me no choice, Jo." A sad shrug, "... so I had to… um..."

"Had to what?" Jo saw the blonde sniff sorrowfully. "Had to what, Blair?!" she asked again more boldly.

It had been her last defense. A last barrier before the walls came crumbling down and Blair was left utterly helpless. They hadn't talked about their relationship and how it was changing, but she at least thought they were on the same page... that Jo felt the same way.

Blair chose to keep her head down and stared at the top of her desk. "Protect my heart," she whispered.

The impact of those words hit hard, and Jo felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She dropped her head and sniffed. _Okay_ , _I get that_.

"So you'll have to excuse me if I don't feel like being very friendly," Blair said letting a silence settle in between them.

Jo was resigned to just accepting it. She nodded, not wanting to look at the blonde. "Okay." She turned to leave, and made her way to the door.

A chair squeaked and footsteps were heard. Jo turned and looked at the woman coming closer to her. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed deeply, completely drained. Blair took slow, small steps; each one testing the weight of it all. Jo hadn't moved, but watched as she got closer.

Blair stopped, coming within a few inches, and she could feel her palms sweating. They were both breathing in short breaths, and stood facing each other, until, finally, Jo opened her arms and found them full of the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt in her life.

Strong arms enveloped the executive, as Jo squeezed her tight. A blonde head was tucked on a shoulder. _Oh baby_ …

They stayed like that for a while, letting the moment wash over then pass… _She still smells wonderful_. Jo cracked a tiny smile. She didn't realize something so trivial could move her so deeply, but she missed Blair's scent… the feel of her as they hugged was intoxicating. She heard a soft hum from the blonde.

"… _Uh_ , _Agent?…"_

 _Shit_. Green eye's shot open and Jo suddenly extracted herself from the embrace. She'd forgotten to tap off Eric when she'd gotten to her office door.

"I uh…" Jo pretended she was scratching her ear and reached a hand in her pocket feeling her phone; tapping it twice. "Sorry." A weak smile.

Blair gave her a slightly confused look then took a gentle step back. "It's okay," she said soothingly, then made a point of shaking her hair out.

Jo watched her _…_ she couldn't help it as a small smile formed purely in reaction. She had always thought Blair's hair was gorgeous, but the way she flaunted it ... that was even more… _sexy_.

"Jo?" Twinkling brown eyes smiled teasingly.

"Yeah?" The brunette blushed, realizing she was staring with a probably ridiculous look on her face. She righted herself. "I'm… uh... we should, um…" she gestured.

"I know," Blair said solemnly. She sighed. "We have to cool it."

Jo agreed. Yeah, we do have to cool it. This is a very serious situation, she reminded herself. She lifted her head, giving Blair a serious look. "This project is going to be big for Warner." She stated with authority; determined to get back to business.

Blair suppressed a smile, giving the woman in front of her an adoring look. She made up her mind and took a step forward. Leaning in she kissed a reddish cheek, and let a sultry grin etch her face as Jo's eyes fluttered.

"What was that for?" Jo cleared her throat, idly watching the blonde.

Blair turned and made her way back to her desk. She took a seat. "For trying."

Brown brows knit. "Trying?" Jo regained her composure. "Blair, we do have to work together. Closely." she stressed. "Probably more so than before."

Blair neatly arranged a stack of papers. "I know that," she said without looking up.

Jo scratched her top lip with an index finger. "So, what are you saying?"

Blair sat back and gave her fellow executive a slow once over… her eyes taking in the form fitting dark brown suit, then traveling up to... _oh wow, she got a tan_... She looked alluringly into piercing green eyes, which caused Jo to swallow as a deep blush colored her neck and face. She sighed. _Exactly_.

"We have to adhere to company policy," she stated, seeing Jo acknowledge that, then slowly nod in agreement. "Adhere to the rules and regulations of employee and executive behavior." Brown eyes kept a steady hold on green as Blair let the words slide off her tongue.

Jo stopped nodding. "Shouldn't be too hard, right?" she threw an uncertain smile.

Blair declined a direct answer and picked up a pen, turning it over in her hand. "In case you haven't noticed lately, the climate out there is rather harsh when it comes to relationships between a boss and an employee."

That was met with silence as Jo couldn't argue with Blair's statement. She could feel her confidence slipping.

Blair let the pen fall. "It would be a disaster if we…"

"I know..." Jo sighed and rested a hand in her pocket. She had her own company policy to comply to.

"It would look bad…" Blair said softly. She knew she was putting herself on the line in more ways than one. "Remember when I said if you wanted to keep things strictly business that we could do that?… Try to… um... to keep…" she faded.

Jo looked at the president of Warner Textiles. She looked so small sitting in her chair. "If that's what you want."

The eyes can convey many things: hurt, anger, passion, love, hate, indifference, truth and of course _lies_. "It's what I want."

The words seemed to echo off of the four walls of the office. An aggrieved expression showed on Blair's face. Her gaze held the sobering one in front of her. Jo averted her eyes, her bottom lip bunching as she grunted a reluctant response.

So it came down to this... and all the distance in the world couldn't take away the feelings now. There was a subtle satisfying excitement they'd stirred into existence that just seemed to grow more pleasurable every time they saw each other... admittedly, it was stimulating.

But now... reality was proving to be the test of their relationship. The truth being, it was going to be hard, which was something they'd known the minute they'd admitted their attraction was mutual.

 _And isn't that just how life is, curve balls and all_? Jo exhaled. "Well I guess that's it then." She saw the blonde avoid her eyes. She nodded, then turned to leave. The complete unresponsive silence from Blair was making her walk to the door feel that much longer and arduous as she exited the room. She closed the door quietly behind her.

Blair sat motionless, her lips making a cute little 'oh' as her eyes closed and the breath left her mouth. She got up and went to the drink cart pouring a glass of water and gulped it down. The vibes from their… _engagement,_ still lingered around her. She placed a hand on her stomach and steadied herself. You can do this.

"This is my project and I'll be damned if I let anything or anyone keep me from seeing it through," she said a bit winded.

Setting her glass down, Blair pulled her blouse sleeves straight; then weaved a hand through her hair, as she hummed, frustrated. The tresses felt silky and soft as she let them fall through her fingers… her eyes half lidded. She sighed, then turned and looked out over the expanse of the city.

So deceiving, she thought. A bright sunny day. Anyone would think it was eighty degrees outside… until they stepped out of the door in January.

She made her way over to the desk and sat down. Picking up the rolling mouse, she found the file she'd been working on. "Let's see..." a click, "There. Regional project." She rolled through the file, "Numbers, numbers, ah, there you are..."

The IT budget. She leaned forward examining the numbers, propping a hand under her chin. She studied them for a while... then slowly slid her eyes toward her office door. A slow smile crept on her lips shaping them. She couldn't help it as a wave of giddiness enveloped her and she let out a giggle only to cover it up with a finger over her lips.

Everything was going well. The project was on track, there was a possibility Mrs. Garrett was alive and things were better with Jo. Yes, they were decidedly getting better, and it didn't even matter that she'd been gone for two months, did it?

It had at first, and she'd dealt with the impact of starting something only to have it come to a halt before they could even understand where it was going. And she'd lashed out in frustration. But now? She had to admit she was glad Jo was back in her life...

 _Jo_... who works across the hall... and I get to see her everyday. Blair let out another burst of a giggle, this time clasping a hand over her mouth. _Oh my God what is wrong with me!_

She calmed herself. Scooting closer to the computer, she poured through the screens to formulate a plan for her team. _Okay, Blair, concentrate. This project isn't going to get off the ground on its own..._

* * *

"Green!"

She hated when he did that. Natalie grabbed her pen and pad, then headed for her boss's office. The door was wide open and she stood in the doorway observing Harris as he was critiquing a preliminary draft. "You wanted to see me?"

He looked up. "Have a seat Green."

Natalie sighed then sat. She waited as her boss finally set his pad down and took off his reading glasses. "I want you to take another route with the Warner expose," he said.

"What?" That caught the cub reporter off guard. "B-but I'm getting close to finishing it." She couldn't believe he wanted to change course now.

Harris smirked. "The National is covering the whole break-up with the gay boyfriend thing. Find another angle." He put his glasses back on and picked up the pad.

Dumbfounded, Natalie was at a loss for words. Then again, as she really thought about it, she was partly relieved she didn't have to cover that.

Blair had done what she said she'd do if it ever came out that Paul was marrying a man. It had been a month since they'd tied the knot, and Blair, true to form, played the shocked and hurt girlfriend. She kept her promise of being done with men and when asked, denied she ever had a clue about Paul. Paul of course had agreed to everything - being out already, at least to friends and family.

"Well, I guess I could just stick to her being one of the most eligible bachelorettes in New York, who just so happens to be the President of a major corporation." Natalie's smile faded when she saw Harris give her a disapproving look over the top of his spectacles.

"That sounds boring, Green," he pinned her. "Who's gonna read that and think they know anything about her?! Huh?!" he barked.

Natalie jerked back a little. "Well..." she cleared her throat timidly. "I guess I see what you mean..." she gave him a weak smile.

Harris stared at her a minute more. "Start over, Green. And find out something The National doesn't know about." He pointed at her. "I don't want them getting the jump on us again!"

Natalie sighed then nodded her head. "I'll get it covered, sir."

* * *

Jo's office was much smaller than Blair's, of course, but being an executive did have its perks. She still got an awesome view, and a nice modern desk with a comfortable chair; more so than the one in her office at JTI. That was a welcome change. She had brought in a small box of her 'things,' which consisted of a baseball poster, a few desk items like her Mickey Mantle signed baseball and a picture of her paternal grandfather.

She'd been typing away for a few hours - David Warner had given her the codes to each and every department within the entire company. Jo's job was to set up firewall, encryptions and other security measures to protect the accounts from outside and foreign tampering and hacking... all 126 of them. She was presently working on number twenty-seven.

"...Long way to go, but I need to get the code sheet back to Mr. Warner asap," Jo informed Eric.

" _Be careful. Guard it with your life,"_ he said.

The sheet of codes was kept by the CEO in a special safe. They were the codes for every account consisting of the entire budget from each department; and covering over a billion dollars. David had entrusted Jo with it.

"Don't worry," she typed. "It's keeping me busy." Jo could hear Eric clicking the keys on his own computer.

" _How'd your meeting go with Blair earlier?"_ he finally asked.

Jo smirked. Took you long enough. "We made up," was all she offered with a small smile.

" _I don't know if that's good or bad,_ " Eric said.

"Good." Jo finished a program and started another. "We needed to clear the air."

" _I'm trusting your judgement on this, Agent_."

A sigh. "Well, I know Blair. It's best to be on her good side if you want her to listen to you."

" _I see_."

"Besides we have to see each other every day," Jo said. She didn't _think_ she sounded too happy about that, but... maybe just a little?

A few seconds of silence graced their conversation. " _Something tells me she wouldn't be able to stay mad at you forever, regardless,_ " Eric finally said with an even tone.

Jo stopped typing, letting a whimsical smile form. "You're probably right."

She tapped off Eric before he could respond, and went back to building more firewalls. _I feel the same way_.

* * *

Blair sat back in her chair, closing her eyes, giving them a much needed rest. She had spent the afternoon pouring over the operational costs and materials for the project, compiling an outline for her team and now she was due a break.

A light tap on her office door startled her. "Come in."

Emily came into the office, making her way over to the executive. "Did you get one of these?" she asked holding up an envelope. She took a seat in front of Blair.

Blair thought for a second, then opened her top drawer. "Forgot I got one." She opened the envelop taking out a stock card that had gold writing on it. Reading it she smirked then put it back in the envelope and threw it across her desk.

It was one of many events that was her duty to attend. It was practically required. Being president of a major corporation had its perks and quirks. This one was being held at The Plaza, so lavishly extravagant didn't even begin to describe it.

"Are you going?" Emily asked. She hated these kinds of functions. She found them pretentious and boring.

Blair leaned back letting her hands rest in her lap; then giving Emily a bored expression. "I have to... are you?"

Emily crossed one leg over the other. "Don may have to go out of town so, it's up in the air," she said.

"Lucky you if you get off the hook." Blair gave the woman a grim smile.

Emily nodded. "How's the project outline coming?"

Blair stretched, then clicked into a file. "It's going. I just finished the preliminary numbers for materials, " she said in a monotone.

Emily stood. "You know we're going to be burning the midnight oil to get this thing finished."

Blair gave her a tired look. "Don't I know it."

"At least we have IT to get things done more quickly," the red headed vice president of advertising said as she gauged Blair's reaction. "Joanna Polniaczek is now heading that up, right?" She saw Blair glance at her and nod once, then go back to her screen. "So how's that going to work out? Working with a friend..."

Blair shrugged a little. "We've known each other since we were teenagers, it'll be fine," she glanced at Emily again, who was studying her.

"I'm just curious... you know sometimes working with family or friends can lead to disaster," Emily stated, with a cautious tone.

She was fishing. For what, Blair could only guess. Probably concerned about the project not getting snagged on petty grievances.

She started typing on her keyboard. "Jo and I have weathered many storms, besides we're keeping things professional. She understands my goals with this project," Blair finished. She glanced up, giving Emily a stern, _that's all I'm saying about that_ , look.

Emily tilted her head, taking her cue and made her way to the door. "I'll have my numbers to you soon," she tossed over her shoulder as she left the room, pulling the door shut.

Blair stilled her motions, actually reveling in the quiet of her office for a few moments. She wondered what Jo was doing. She hadn't heard from her for hours... well that makes sense. She's busy getting to know our system.

There was another knock on the door. Blair rolled her eyes, "I should just install a revolving door," she muttered, irritated. "Come in."

David peeked his head in seeing his daughter hard at work, looking like she'd had a rough week and it was only Monday.

"Hi." Blair watched as he walked over and stood in front of her. "Everything alright?" she asked.

David nodded. "Everything's fine. I just stopped by to see if you got your invitation to the Fieretto charity event this weekend."

Blair pointed to the envelope across her desk. "Wouldn't miss it," she lied then went back to typing.

"Good." David watched her. "I was wondering who you were bringing." He rocked back on his heels a couple of times.

Blair clicked a screen. "I'm going stag." She typed some more.

"Hmm," David lifted his shoulders then dropped them. "I was hoping you'd take someone," he didn't bother to sensor himself. "It's important for you to be seen with a date, Blair."

She knew what he was eluding to. Paul had gotten married a month ago, and even though she'd gone through with her 'heartbreak' scheme, and continued to play the scorned girlfriend in public - her father knew the truth of the matter.

"I'm sure people will understand," was all she offered, the implication being: _you too, Daddy_.

David grumbled at that. Certain people will care. "Blair, you know _what_ you do and _who_ you do it with, reflects on the company," he said with what he hoped was a little wiggle room to argue.

Blair clicked off her screen, giving her father her full, undivided attention. "That sounds, vaguely, like you're giving me an ultimatum." She didn't like those, especially when it was her father doing the offering.

David crossed his arms. "I'm merely making a suggestion you take... an escort," he tried to clarify.

Blair scoffed. "To show the world I've rebounded and moved on with my life. Is that how it goes?" she said cryptically.

 _For your safety_ , David thought as he watched his daughter grow agitated with him. He decided to get to the point. "I've asked the vice president of Valespar Industries to escort you."

Blair lifted a harsh brow. "Oh really?" she took in a breath. "Did you bother to ask me what I thought about that?... No..." she answered herself seeing her father's disappointed face. "Don't give me that, Daddy. I'm not fifteen years old. You can't arrange my love life for me," she said angrily.

David remained silent, not really sure how to explain his reasoning. It was for her safety was all he could come up with.

Blair kept hard eyes on her father. "I can't believe you did that!" she said, trying to get a grip on her temper.

"Blair..."

"Don't!" She lifted a warning hand, "...just don't Daddy."

David paused and tried again. "Blair, please understand. I'm not trying to run your life." He got no response. "You need to be seen with someone for your safety. Mark Valespar is a nice guy. He'd be perfect for you," David closed his eyes realizing he'd phrased that all wrong.

That was met with a scoff. "There." Blair flung an arm out, then crossed her arms tightly over her chest _._ "Someone _perfect_ for me _._ That's exactly what I'm talking about. You're still doing it!"

"You're taking it out of context, I-I meant because of the threat to our family." David said, trying in vain to explain the situation.

Blair leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. Right... okay... so he had a point. They were in danger still. It would look better for her to be seen with someone, preferably a guy. She didn't like that her father was also implying it was some kind of a date. Slowly, she returned his gaze... his gray eyes expressing hopefulness. She quirked the side of her mouth.

"I'll think about it," she said begrudgingly.

David was visibly relieved. "Thank you," he said with a grateful smile.

"Don't thank me yet. I said I'll think about it." Blair stood firm on that. "I'll be doing _you_ a favor, Daddy if I do decide to go along with this." Let's not get any misleading ideas.

David smiled in understanding. "You've made me very happy," he gazed at Blair. A wavering sense of security gripped him for a moment. "I didn't want to have to worry about you."

He'd said that with a hint of anxiousness. Blair noticed he was a little more concerned about her safety as of late. "Do you think someone would try something at the event?"

It was a possibility; and even though Blair was still in the dark about exactly who was threatening the company, it was all the same. Keep everyone safe.

"You never know. That's why we have to take all precaution." David knew the FBI would have the building surrounded, but someone needed to be close to Blair; and it didn't hurt to be seen with a potential suitor. "I'm sure security will see to it that everything will be alright."

David tried to give her a reassuring grin. He checked his watch. "Gotta go," he smiled. "Meeting in ten."

"Understood." Blair watched as he hastily left the room.

There was something peculiar about the way he was acting. She knew her father, and he was a little too excepting of her attitude. _Something's off_.

She waved it off; filing it away to think about later. Back to work...

* * *

"Finally."

Jo sank back in her chair, closing her eyes enjoying the feel of the soft leather. Her goal was reached. Sixty security systems were finished and in place.

" _How many_?" Eric asked.

"Sixty. That's all I'm doing today. I have to start learning the Warner system." She turned and looked out of the window at the cityscape. Impressive came to mind. There was a knock on her door.

"Talk to you later," she tapped Eric off, then turned around. "Come in."

David Warner stepped into the office. "Well..." He looked around appreciatively, letting a smile form on his lips. "They did a great job," he took in the new wall color and office furniture. "Nothing of Barry's was kept in here," he said as he approached Jo. "I saw to that myself."

Jo didn't really know what to say to that. It didn't really affect her one way or the other. "Thanks," she managed, giving him a grin.

David took a seat in front of her. "Is it alright to talk here?" he asked in a low voice.

Normally he didn't want to get into security matters at the office, but with the new developments...

"Sure," Jo said. "My office is clean," she watched as David nodded his head.

"We have a situation," he began.

A brow quirked. "What situation?" Jo laced her fingers together on the desk.

"There's an event this Saturday at the Plaza Hotel. A charity function. Many of the executives from Warner will be there," he explained.

Jo scratched her cheek. "Hmm, okay." She was afraid of this; an uncontrolled environment.

"Blair will be there," David said for emphasis. "This could be a potential test for whomever is out to target us."

That was an uncomfortable feeling, but Jo understood. "I'll let Eric know. He'll contact his supervisor with the FBI and they'll handle it from there," she gave him her best 'trust me' face.

David adjusted uncomfortably in the chair. The stress of not knowing when the other shoe could drop was a daily struggle to get through for him. "I want you there, Jo."

Jo could see the CEO was anxious as he rubbed his hands together nervously. "I didn't get an invite," she pointed out.

David reached into his lapel pocket and took out an envelope. "I don't think that will be a problem." He read the invitation. "Says here one guest... I suppose that's for spouses and such." He looked up. "You can be my guest."

Which would work out perfectly, he thought. With his current wife, Connie, being out of town in Rome for the last few months, and Joyce recovering... He looked at the brunette. Jo was obviously trying to decipher something.

"Is that going to be a problem?" David noticed her sour expression.

A sigh. "No problem. Duty calls, I guess." Jo wore a half smile.

She absolutely hated these things and wouldn't you know it, she'd probably have to attend more of them now that it was her duty to look after Blair's safety.

David felt relieved to hear that. "I would feel better if you came." He slid the invitation over to her. "Keep this, please."

Jo took it, then got comfortable in her chair. "So would I, to be honest." She read the first few lines. "It's these kind of venues that prove to be the best targets," she said. "I'll make sure my back up is inside as well... I hate surprises." She threw the envelope onto her desk.

David nodded as a wave of insecurity went through him. He was at least glad Jo was going to be on the inside. "Well," he slapped the top of her desk as he stood. "I trust your judgement, Jo." He pulled his suit jacket straight and buttoned the middle button. "It's black tie, formal... just to let you know..." a wink.

Jo shook her head slightly. It gets worse. _Great_. "Does that mean I have to wear a dress?" She hated those.

David waved a hand. "You can wear anything you'd like. As long as its formal," he repeated.

Green eyes blinked, then regarded the CEO for a second. "That would mean a dress, sir," she said respectfully.

A shrug. "Suit, dress... suit-dress... I'm sure you'll figure it out." David gave her a little wave then turned to leave. A chuckle floated in the air as he left the office.

 _Terrific_.

Jo picked up a pen and twirled it. So Blair's going to be at this event... a smile grew. Blair always lavished in these kinds of things. She loved to show off, especially the latest dress she had yet to debut. Jo twisted a little in her seat. She got up and headed for the door. Exiting her office, she eyed Blair's door across the hall.

Making up her mind, she approached Blair's office and knocked on the door, only to have it swiftly yanked open and a blur of blonde hair and papers knock into her.

"Sorry... um..." Jo looked into startled brown eyes before dropping to pick up the papers.

Blair dropped down with her. "I didn't know you were coming in." She let out a laugh then arranged some hair behind an ear as they gathered everything into a pile.

Jo swallowed, then handed the executive her papers; their eyes meeting for a moment before Blair smiled and stood. Jo followed her.

"Umm..." a blonde brow lifted, "was there something you wanted?" She motioned toward the elevator. "I was just on my way to a meeting," a smile. "It's for materials," she informed... not that Jo had asked or anything.

"Oh... uh..." Jo scratched her temple to buy time; temporarily forgetting why she'd ventured across the hall. "I was just going to ask you about the, uh... _thing_ this weekend," she hadn't really bothered to remember the title of the event in any case.

Blair gave her a puzzled look, then realized, "Oh, you mean the Fieretto charity event?" She shifted the papers to her other hand. "What about it?"

Jo shoved her hands in her pockets, giving the blonde a nonchalant look. "I didn't know if you were going." She mentally slapped herself for asking that. Of course she's going, you idiot.

Blair pursed her lips. "I have to, it's practically mandatory."

She didn't sound too amused... which was surprising. "I thought you'd be chomping at the bit to go to something like this," Jo said a little confused.

"Normally, yes." Blair wasn't opposed to high society; quite the opposite, but now that the project was in full swing... "Believe it or not, I'm more focused on this project getting off the ground. Emily and I were planning to work on Saturday," she informed.

Jo found herself surprised by that. "Oh." Her brows lifted.

Blair was watching her closely. "Why are you asking?"

A shrug. "Nothing."

Blair smirked. "Nothing?" then she realized, "Oh wait, you didn't get an invite, did you?"

Jo shifted her feet a bit. "It's not a big deal, trust me."

"Being so new to the company," Blair realized. "I know you Jo. Did you actually want to go or something crazy like that?" she was partially teasing the brunette now.

Jo gave her a mock scoff. "It's not so crazy, Blair... and your father invited me." That earned both a curious and surprised look from the blonde. "I guess he wanted to acclimate me into the company so of course going to this... _thing_ was a start," Jo covered. That made sense. Not that she was going to actually tell the client she was going in order to keep an eye on her.

Blair had to suppress a giggle at how that conversation probably went. Especially knowing Jo's attitude toward high society. "Lucky you, huh?" A toothy smile.

Jo rolled her eyes at the blonde who laughed out loud... They stood there for a while until a quiet silence set in for a few moments.

Blair draped a piece of hair behind her ear. "Well..." she looked down for a second. "I really need to get to my meeting," she said softly, then met the twinkling green eyes that were watching her.

Jo realized she was holding the blonde up. "Oh..." a chuckle, "yeah," a shy smile, "sorry..." she pointed to her office door. "I'll just.. um... get back to..."

Blair grinned at that then started down the hall. "Don't overwork yourself. I know you're trying to learn our system, but it can be daunting to do that in one day."

Jo was walking backward as she noticed Blair do the same. Her butt hit her office door. "I'll pace myself."

Blair smiled, then waved at the brunette. "Good." She winked and quickly turned around and went around the corner to get on the executive elevator.

* * *

"Mail!"

Natalie closed the apartment door with her foot. "Bill, bill, bill, trash, bill... oh..." She turned the envelope over. It was inscribed in fancy gold lettering. "This one's for you." She walked over to the kitchen and handed the actress the envelope with interest.

Tootie was drinking a glass of orange juice and eyed the envelope, then took it from Natalie. She put her glass down. "What's this?"

"Open it." Natalie took a seat at the island and watched as Tootie carefully peeled it open.

She took out the card stock and read it, then clasped a hand over her mouth. "OhmyGod!"

Natalie's eyes widened, "What?!"

"It's!..." Tootie beamed at her roommate. "Natalie Green..." she said in a very calm voice, eyeing her friend. " _I._ Have. Finally. Arrived."

Tootie handed the card to Natalie then floated out of the kitchen and into the front room to sit on the couch. Natalie watched her with fascination then confusion. She read the card then understood.

"Oh, wow..." She glanced at Tootie who still had her nose slightly in the air. A smirk. "So you've been invited to some high society bash," the reporter tried to throw a little cold water on her roommate's pretentiousness. She moved to the front room.

"Not just any 'bash,' Natalie. _The_ bash of the year." She paused for effect. "Anyone who is anyone will be there," Tootie said arrogantly.

Natalie sat on the couch. "You mean a room full of rich people?" She read the card again. "This is a charity event."

Tootie scoffed. _"This_ is an opportunity to be seen, Natalie," she corrected with a stern look.

The reporter shook her head. "Don't let it go to your head or anything."

Tootie lifted a shoulder. "I'm not." She took the card from Natalie. "I'm just going to go frame this," she smiled as she got up from the sofa.

Natalie sat back in the couch cushions. "I wonder why I didn't get an invite. I mean... we live together," she muttered.

Tootie shrugged. "Well, I am a well-known actress, so there's that," she said without self-awareness.

"You mean well known within the theater community, Tootie?" Natalie reveled a little in putting things in perspective for the thespian.

Brown eyes rolled at that. Natalie did have a point. Beyond the stage, she was an unknown. "Whatever," was all she could come up with. "Besides, Nat, you're a reporter. I don't think reporters are too favored at these kinds of functions."

Natalie crinkled a brow at that. "Why not? What do they have against reporters?!" She was visibly insulted now.

Tootie realized she may have bitten off more than she'd wanted. "I don't know. Lately they've have been getting a bad rap... especially from some of those big tycoons."

Natalie had to chuckle at that. "All the more reason to go and expose them. Besides this is a charity event for wild animals that are starving because of global warming."

Tootie regarded her friend. "Do you want to go, Nat?"

Blue eyes blinked. She didn't expect that. "What?"

Tootie read the card again. "It says I can bring one guest," she clarified.

The reporter made a point to act disinterested. "You don't really have to-"

"Okay, never mind," Tootie stuffed the card back in the envelope.

Natalie snatched it. "I'll go."

* * *

Blair reapplied her lipstick for the forth time that evening. Hamilton had swerved the limo and caused her to miss her top lip _again_. She blotted, then sat back and sighed, watching the buildings go by. It was seven twenty-three, and she had agreed to meet Mark at the Plaza Hotel. She preferred it that way, instead of arriving together. The tabloids would have a field day with that; she released a ragged sigh at the thought.

Blair checked her watch. Being fashionably late was expected at these events; being as it had started at seven. They were serving dinner at eight, after all... and cocktails... _much needed_. She had googled Mark Valespar. He was an heir, _no_ _surprise_. They'd talked briefly on the phone the day before. Blair learning that he was thirty, a Stanford business grad; MBA from USC. He'd acquired his position through his family's 'next in line' latter of appointment... as did she. He had called her just to break the ice before their 'date'.

 _He_ had called it that.

Blair, much to her own credit, kept thanking him for escorting her... and that her father had suggested it, and that she was very busy with a new project at work. She hoped he'd gotten the message. After all, she was unavailable... _yes_... or at least that was what her mind and heart was telling her... even if not physically or even officially. Blair closed her eyes. A smile adorned her features and she knew she was blushing at the thought of the brunette.

They had managed to stay busy for the rest of the week; occasionally seeing each other in the lobby or in the hallway on the way to a meeting. Jo was always pouring over her computer, otherwise.

She knew Jo would be at the event tonight, and that elicited a warm feeling that went down to her toes. She brushed a hand over her dress; having decided at the last minute to wear the expensive and exotic number. It took her three hours to get dressed. Her hair was conditioned and meticulously wound in a shell-like bun. Bangs accentuated her face with spiral length hair hanging down on both sides. Her makeup was a little heavier than usual; the eyeshadow she picked was meant to bring out the hazel color of her eyes. She had a professional mani-pedi done - extra effort being made on her toes, which were in an open toed shoe: four inch heels, that had diamond studs on them.

The limousine finally arrived; the car twisted around the rounded entrance of the Plaza Hotel. "Well this is it." Blair could see several news cameras and photographers waiting as each car pulled up.

She pulled on a full-length fur coat, electing to hold a matching fur shawl that she planned on throwing across her shoulders as she milled about the floor.

Hamilton drew the car up between two gold posts that were at the top of a rolled out red carpet. He quickly exited the car and came around to open the door for Blair. She was carefully lifted out with the help of his hand as her name was called.

"President of Warner Textiles, Blair Warner!"

A small crowd that had formed clapped as she started her walk down the carpet. Flashing camera lights sparkled as she heard a few gasps, and murmurs. Several surprised eyes were wide with fascination and smiles of adoration took in the beautiful woman.

Blair smiled brightly. She was, after all, in her element. The front of her coat was purposely open, reveling the plunging neckline of the tight fitted black dress - its hem coming to rest just above the knee. The single strand of diamonds around her neck matched her earrings and sparkled as several flashes went off, following her down the carpet.

Then the moment was over and Blair had reached the coat check-in. She gave the young woman her coat and gloves and took a number. Fluffing and adjusting the stole of fur around her shoulders, she turned then heard a throat clear.

"Blair?"

A young man, tall, wearing a black tuxedo stepped into view. Blair blinked, not sure if she'd heard her name. "I'm sorry?"

The man smiled, bearing a bright white set of teeth, "Blair Warner?"

Blair eyed him. _This must be Mark_. She faced him fully. _He's thinner than his picture_. She held out a hand. "Mark Valespar?" she asked with a tight smile.

Mark took her hand at the fingertips. His blue eyes twinkled as he shook it. "Blair, wonderful to meet you." He politely released her hand. "Your picture doesn't do you justice."

A smile, as the blonde did an internal eye roll at the overused phrase. "Thank you... like-wise." Blair said artificially. She discreetly did a once over... he was standard grade... or 'Daddy approved' whichever was which. She motioned toward the ballroom full of people. "Shall we?"

"My pleasure." Mark offered his arm and grinned as Blair lightly placed her hand on his bicep as they walked into the room.

* * *

 _Stuffy_.

That was the word of the day for Jo. She sat silently in the back of the small limousine David Warner had sent for her. She'd wanted to take her bike but... well 'in formal ware?' David asked. He had won the argument as Jo couldn't come up with a good excuse to ride her preferred mode of transportation.

David Warner understood Jo needed to keep a low profile. Entering at the front of the hotel wouldn't be a good idea, as pictures would be taken and questions would start to form. So here they were, as the limo arrived at the back of the hotel. Jo adjusted her tuxedo jacket. It was black with a feminine cut. The vest was white lace, very elegant, and she had topped off her outfit with a one inch heel. Her hair was down, and she had on just sprinkle of make-up...enough to accentuate her green eyes and smile.

She got out as soon as the car stopped, not waiting for the driver to open the door.

"Mr. Warner said to stay here until you were ready to leave." The driver said as he closed the door.

A nod. "Thanks." Jo stood there for a moment, "I feel like I'm supposed to tip you or something."

The man smiled, then tipped his hat. "Not necessary."

Jo accepted that then moved to go inside the Plaza Hotel. She had received a map of the entire hotel and of where the event would be held. A brief meeting with Eric earlier, had her well equipped for the evening. There were three FBI agents on the inside and a team on the exterior. She tapped the back of her ear as she made her way down a long hall toward the elevators.

"Test, this is _Pol_ checking in. I need one, two and three..." she said.

" _Test, agent one..."_

" _Test, agent, two..."_

" _Test, agent, three..."_

 _"_ Alright, I'm in. Are we all in place?"

There was a round of ' _yesses_ ' from the other agents as Jo arrived at the elevator. She tapped them off. There were other people crowding in as the doors closed. It was all glass and the view was amazing as they could see the entire event floor come into view as they rode up to it.

Jo stepped off; then headed to the entrance of the event. She checked into the host station and after they'd found her name on the list of guests, she was allowed through.

She searched the floor for David Warner and found him in the middle of several other CEO's already nursing a glass of scotch. Jo started to make her way over to him, observing the lavish ballroom with its ice sculptures, Champaign fountains and furs and diamonds everywhere. She managed to snag a flute full of of Champaign from one of the passing waiters. Taking a sip, she heard a sharp gasp and turned.

"Jo?!"

The brunette let a lazy smile grow as she took another sip. "You guy's clean up nice," she said, watching her two best friends approach her.

Natalie was the first to gawk. "Wow! You look..."

"Smashing," a smile. "I know," Jo said jokingly, smoothing out her jacket.

"I was going to say..." Natalie opened and shut her mouth as she took in the brunette. "I guess smashing covers it."

Tootie giggled. "We've just never seen you this..." she searched for the words. "Made up before."

Jo rolled her eyes at the two of them. "Would you two knock it off?" she half teasingly barked.

Okay, so it wasn't everyday that she dressed up for something like this... or something like this she went to everyday. _Whatever._ Jo did a mental scoff at that. Getting through this evening and all the chit chat she'd have to suffer through would be all she could endure. She looked at Tootie and frowned. "What's with the tiara?"

Tootie adjusted it then smiled. "It's from the prop department. They said I could borrow it for the evening."

Natalie took a sip of Champaign and smirked, as did Jo. "Oh." Jo took another look around, keeping her eyes moving around the room. "So, how'd you guys get in here?" She knew it was invitation only.

"Nat's my guest," Tootie said proudly. "I got the official invite."

Natalie sipped her drink then swallowed. "They hate reporter's here," she tried to explain her lack of an invite.

Jo shrugged, then took out the envelop and read it again. There was something about the host's name that didn't quite sit well with her. "Says here this thing is being hosted by Evangeline Lillian St. Claire Dominico Fieretto... huh... I feel like I should know who this is," she stated.

"Evangeline?" Natalie leaned in and read it. "I know what you mean." Her brow knitted. "Something about that name..."

The three of them stood there in thought for a moment until... they heard an approaching voice behind them...

"Yooohooo!"

All three slowly turned and took in the woman moving swiftly toward them, waving her arms. Natalie was the first to speak. "Well now I get it," she took a sip.

Tootie's smile faded. "It can't be..."

Jo took a sip. "It can and it is." She put on a fake smile. "Boots St. Claire..."

The woman stopped and gave each one of them an earnest smile. She was dressed in all white. Sequined gown, diamond studded earrings and a matching necklace. Even the fur stole was fluffed to the nines.

"Well, well, well... so good to see _all_ of you," she paused to take a breath, "Welcome to the Plaza Hotel... home of some of New York's finest food and spectacular events... like this one... Its famous clientele include-"

"We know Boots, we know," Jo interrupted, taking another sip.

"Well..." Boots reigned in her spiel. "I'm _so_ glad you all have been so generous as to give to the fund... It's for the walruses, the polar bears, the penguin's and of course the poor little fish."

They'd all given to the cause, had written their checks days beforehand - it was, after all, very much needed. Jo also knew another reason for such an event. "Knock it off, Boots. It's the beginning of the year. You're getting a jump on a tax write-off." She took a drink from her Champaign flute and looked around disinterestedly.

Boots maintained her smile. "While that all may be true, the wildlife of the Artic and Antarctica needs our help."

Tootie tapped Natalie on the arm. It was their little silent signal to leave. "We're going to go and mingle," she said. Natalie nodded and smiled as they quickly scurried away; leaving Jo stuck, and flat footed.

Boots watched them go, then turned her attention to the brunette, taking in her attire. "Well... as I live and breathe. Jo Polniaczek." She'd said it with a look under her eye lashes.

Jo spared her a glance then went back to scanning the room. "Nice thing you have going here," she took another sip.

Boots wiped at a tendril of hair, putting it in place. "I'm glad you came." A smile.

That got Jo's attention. The way she'd said that. "I'm an invited guest," she informed.

"I heard you were working at Warner now," Boots was never one to waste time getting to the point. She saw a brown brow lift at that. "Full time." A big toothy smile. She visibly enjoyed Jo's startled surprise. "Few things get by me within our circle." She made a loop between them with her index finger.

Jo frowned at her. "I'm not in your circle, Boots."

A chuckle, then, "Of course not, dear... but Blair is." She snagged a Champaign flute from a passing waiter, took a sip and held it out from her body as she waited for Jo to respond.

Jo slightly closed her eyes, not really wanting to have this conversation, but took the bait anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying when things happen, people talk." She took another sip and waited.

Jo shifted her weight agitatedly. "Look, Boots, the only thing that's happened lately is I've been hired to work in IT."

Boots kept up a bright smile that was wearing on the brunette's nerves. The socialite's eye's even sparkled. "Bingo!" She punctuated.

 _Some things never change_. "Whatever, it's not a secret." Jo took a long drink from her flute.

She sighed then blinked several times as something shook her. The hair on her neck stood up... it wasn't a bad feeling, just... a sensation... she turned slowly and trekked her line of vision across the large ballroom, finally finding what had beckoned her...

It was a slight movement that caused Blair to look away from her conversation. She and Mark had made their rounds, talking and rubbing elbows with the elite. She turned her attention to what had caught her eye across the room...

Unmistakably gorgeous green eyes...

They were piercing and almost bold, and sent an unexpected jolt through her. She gasped then quickly covered with a laugh at whatever the man in front of her had said... her heart taking on a runaway rhythm of its own.

"...So then I swung at it in the sand trap three times until I finally dug it out!" the man said, Mark had laughed at his joke.

Blair laughed along as well, having not the slightest idea what the conversation was about. She snuck anther glance at Jo, noticing the suit she wore. _Oh wow_... _She fills that out nicely_. She swallowed, feeling a flush cover her body from head to toe. She secretly loved it when Jo went against status quo. For some reason, she found that to be quite... stimulating.

"Are you alright?" Mark had noticed her appearance. He gave her a puzzled look.

Blair patted his arm. "I'm fine... I-It's just a little warm in here." She gestured toward the balcony. I'm just going to get some fresh air." She took a few steps from him. "I'll be right back."

Mark grabbed her hand. "Nonsense. It's freezing out there," he said, a little concerned at the executive's sudden actions. "Please, allow me get you something to drink."

Blair didn't have time to object and watched as Mark left. She looked across the room noticing Jo in conversation with Boots St. Claire of all people... she squared her shoulders and excused herself then made up her mind to acknowledge one of her fellow executives... after all it would be impolite to pretend she didn't see her when it was so very obvious she did.

"... So that's how we got involved with the charity..." Boots finished informing Jo of her charitable expeditions when her eyes lit up at the approaching woman.

Jo turned as well, watching as Blair came toward them. Her stomach did a little dance as the executive moved closer. So beautiful, was what first came to mind. She couldn't help but notice several heads turn as high four-inch stilettos made their way across the floor. The form fitting dress left nothing to the imagination as hips swayed a determined gait.

Jo's eyelids shuttered and a half smile formed. Blair approached them; then purposely gave the socialite a polite gesture, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, well, well..." Boots began with an exaggerated smile, raking her eyes over Blair's form.

Blair gave Boots a cutting glare. "If you call me Warnsie, I'll scream," she muttered harshly through clenched teeth.

"I was just going to say how stunning you look!" Boots countered like a pro. "Doesn't she look stunning, Jo?"

To Jo's credit, she stifled a laugh by bringing the flute of Champaign up to her lips. She knew better than to look directly at Blair and simply nodded her head as she finished off her glass. She closed her eyes as she felt the burn of the wine go down... anything was a welcome distraction. She cleared her voice.

"Boots was just telling me about the charity." A smile.

"How nice." Blair returned the smile. She turned her attention back to the socialite. "It's really wonderful what you and your husband have done with the fund." A pause. "So good of you to take the time."

There. Small talk initiated.

Boots sipped her flute a bit before responding. "Well, Niles lets me have my charities and my playthings," she'd said that rather haughtily.

It was no secret she had married rich... _twice_. It also wasn't a secret that Boots and Niles Fieretto were known to be swingers from time to time... at least it wasn't a secret within their circle. Jo, however, was still in the dark about that tiny bit of information. She gave the two women a confused look.

Blair crossed her arms over her chest. "And just how is that working out?" she asked, happy to see Boots put on the spot. For some reason, it gave her a sense of superiority.

Boots didn't skip a beat. "Oh, poo, Blair. You know I have no qualms about having fun." She had long sensed something between the two old friends and looked between Jo and Blair. Perhaps it was time to finally to test the waters. She linked her arm through Jo's, only for the brunette to stiffen at the sudden move. She stood still as Boots came closer to her.

"I'm sure Jo can attest to that," Boots announced much to Jo's utter confusion.

"What are you talking about now, Boots?" she eyed the woman.

Blair watched the two of them interestedly. She cleared her throat uncomfortably as she watched the socialite practically rub herself against Jo. A pang of... _okay, this is **not** a jealous feeling_...

"Oh, come, come now Jo... you don't remember?" Boot's had practically purred in the IT executive's ear.

Jo took a peek at Blair who was seemingly restraining herself. She lifted her arm from the grasp. "No, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Boots rolled her eyes. " _Tsk_. I guess because it was so long ago," she said wistfully.

Blair's patience was wearing thin. "What are you going on about?" A well-manicured hand rested on a shapely hip.

"Oh, piff!" Boot's took a sip then stomped her foot. "Well, alright, you don't have to beat it out of me."

"Boots," Jo said warningly under her breath.

Boots drew in a breath. "Jo and I engaged in a make out session one evening when we were at Langley." She let the words out hurriedly... then took a step back to watch the fireworks.

There was stunned silence between the three of them. Jo was the first to crinkle her brow at the statement... and truth be told she was starting to feel the effects of the single glass of Champaign she'd just had.

Brown eyes slowly turned and found green one's looking everywhere but at her. "Is that true?" Blair asked in such a soft and little voice, it made Jo close her eyes with regret... for what, she wasn't quite sure, but she hated the feeling of possibly hurting Blair.

There were certain... bits and pieces of that night that she'd pieced together... but... "I don't know..." That _was_ the truth. There was very little remembered.

"Oh that's right," Boots began, actually enjoying the rather shocked look on Blair's face. "We had just polished off an entire bottle of cabernet sauvignon," she sniffed. "Very expensive, but worth every last drop." She pinned Blair with a facetious look. "Jo is an excellent kisser." She had stressed the word _excellent_.

If looks could kill, was the phrase that ran through Jo's mind. Blair, though visibly upset, took it in. All of it. She tried to reason that it had happened long before Jo had even come out, let alone she herself was dating men at the time, and, _and_... but.

It still hurt.

For the sake of not giving Boots St. Claire one ounce of gratification, she pulled herself together. "I see," she stated. What more could be said anyway? She certainly didn't want to give that woman the satisfaction of seeing her jealous. And really... what of it? It was just a one off obviously...

"We celebrated, I believe," Boots tapped her chin in thought. "The board's Christmas party and, oh! Now I remember. Jo was a freshly minted Regent and was diligently working late and decided to go back to the conference room. I followed and urged her to take a break and partake in some wonderful libation with me," Boots smiled wickedly. "I believe after about one or two glasses of the extravagant wine, our leather-clad, motorcycle riding friend here let her inhibitions down."

The tinkling of a grand piano, dull conversation and occasional laughter was all that could be heard for a few moments before Jo could gather enough gumption to speak. She had broken out in a cold sweat and, quite frankly... felt embarrassed by it all.

"You know... I remember very little about what happened." Jo cut her eyes at Boots. "Are you saying you took advantage of me?" she tried to steer the conversation.

Boots put a startled hand to her chest. "Heavens no! Quite the opposite," she said, then floated the glass up to her lips as she watched Blair give the brunette a scathing look.

Jo stayed quiet. She figured it was the best thing she could do under the circumstances. She finally met brown eyes... they were incensed. "Blair..."

A hand went up as the blond executive attempted to quickly bury her anger. "It's really none of my business."

Jo knew what that meant. She sensed the bottom dropping out and dammit if she wasn't quite coherent enough to even fight back. "Please try to understand..." Green eyes pleaded, and waited as Blair remained silently miffed.

Boots lifted her brows and pursed her lips. "Well, as much as I find this mystery truly fascinating, and would love to stay and converse all night with the two of you, I have my rounds to make." She smiled at them then finger waved. "Toodles!"

Jo watched as the woman blended in to the crowd. She wiped a hand through her hair then faced the blonde. "You have to know that was over five years ago." That was met with a smirk and silence. "Blair," she tried again. "Nothing happened."

Just then a man holding two glasses came and stood beside Blair. "Ah, there you are." He handed one of the glasses to her. She took it without a word.

The man stood quietly. He was obviously waiting for an introduction as he watched Blair take a long drink.

Jo smiled at him. "Sorry, she's a little upset about something." She tried to give him a reassuring smile... whoever he was. Her smile faltered.

Mark looked at Blair with concern then put his hand out. "Hi. I'm Mark Valespar."

Jo shook the hand. "Jo Polniaczek." He seemed like a nice guy. "Friend of Blair's?" She had to ask. No doubt some of Blair's acquaintances were probably here. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Mark looked to Blair again, who was purposefully tightlipped. He let out a nervous chuckle. "Well, actually I'm just..."

"He's my date," Blair interjected. She saw the smile Jo had on her face slowly melt, and her eyes blink as she tried to compute what just transpired.

Blair smiled at Mark who gave her a blank, slightly stunned look. She took his hand and clasped it in hers, then hiked an obstinate eyebrow.

Jo was aware of Blair's... _nature_... especially when she felt threatened or scorned. She could feel her mouth go dry. _Oh_... She looked at their hands clasped together then looked into defensive brown eyes. "Okay." Was all she said as a wave of disheartened mournfulness washed over her.

It made perfect sense after all. Blair wasn't going to just give up her lifestyle and especially her quite public social life on the mere whim of their... _what_... budding relationship? They hadn't really defined the new road they found themselves on... or even if they were in agreement as to where it was going.

Still, the harshness of what she was feeling and seeing it all play out in real life was like a bucket of ice water to the face. It's what Blair had warned her about... how things would look.

Jo cleared her throat. "Well... nice to meet you, Mark," she gave him a stiff smile. "Blair," she gave the blonde a small nod, then averted her eyes as she excused herself and determinedly headed for the elevator.

She pressed the up button, figuring she'd go up a few floors and check out the area. She felt an urgent need to keep busy. The doors dinged open and she stepped in, thankful the car was empty.

Just as the doors started to close they suddenly stopped and bounced open. Jo watched as they slid open to revel a very sheepish looking blonde. "Blair?"

Blair stepped on board then let the doors shut...

"What are you-"

Jo suddenly found a lone finger on her lips. She took the hint and stopped talking. "There are eyes and ears everywhere," Blair whispered.

Jo nodded, thinking she was partially responsible for some of those. Blair punched the top floor button, much to Jo's surprise, and they rode in silence, finally arriving at the floor. They got off, stepping into a small walkway with glass doors that led out onto a spacious balcony. They were completely alone, and the view... spectacular.

Jo decided it was quite fine to stay within the warmth of the building, but Blair had a better idea. She opened the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. Jo watched, not sure what the blonde was up to.

"Blair, it's freezing out here!" She held the door open, not quite willing to venture out into the frigidness.

It was a crisp, cold night and Blair took a few more steps, then stopped and faced Jo. She let a sly grin work its way to her lips before she reached up and took out a hair pin; undoing her locks and letting them fall. She shook out her mane, then tipped her head back; looking up at the twinkling stars... there must be millions of them. She closed her eyes taking in a lungful of air and smiled, fully aware of the eyes that were on her.

Jo leaned on the door, content for a moment just to watch, mesmerized. A lazy smile twitched its way to her lips. She shook her head then approached the blonde, having removed her jacket, and slung it over Blair's shoulders. She stuck her hands in her pockets. "You're crazy," she smiled, and received another dazzling smile in return.

Blair held her gaze on the brunette for a while longer. Their mingling breath could be seen in the air as their puffs started coming in short breaths. Brown eyes hunted through green and asked a question and Jo could only respond by bringing a hand up to smooth the back of her fingertips on a cold cheek. _So soft,_ she thought, as she saw brown eyes flutter closed in reaction. She tilted her head... slowly coming closer as their lips joined carefully; sliding together - soft hums were made as the kiss deepened.

 _God I've missed this_... Blair reached up and slid her hands up and around Jo's shoulders threading her fingers through the dark mane of hair. That elicited a moan as Jo felt her body tingle all over in reaction. She opened her mouth deepening kiss, reveling in the softness of Blair's mouth, taking her time tasting with each stroke. She let her hands smooth over back and hips, gently rubbing until Blair's voice hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

It was intense and their breathing became ragged as lips joined again and again... Jo knew it was going fast... _too_ fast. _Slow it down_. She had wondered, fleetingly, if this was all just a reaction on her part from the alcohol. "Blair..." she breathed as they pulled slightly apart.

Blair's eyes were closed and she kissed Jo tightly once more. "Boots was right..." her voice was gravely and very affected.

Their foreheads were touching and Jo had settled her hands on Blair's hips, massaging them while trying to slow her heartbeat. "What..?" She struggled to catch her breath.

"You are a great kisser." Blair buried her face in Jo's neck, inhaling her scent. She felt a chuckle, then looked up to see darkened green eyes giving her the most reverent look.

"I believe she said I was an _excellent_ kisser." A devious, toothy grin.

"Hmm... whatever..." She wouldn't give Jo her due. She hugged her tightly. "As long as I'm the only one doing it."

Jo laughed and wrapped her arms tightly around Blair. They swayed a little, the cold barely felt as they stayed that way for a few moments. It was quiet, and it felt like - if only for a moment - they were in their own world.

"We are breaking all kinds of rules," Blair finally said. She was enjoying the warmth of their connection. Jo's steady heartbeat had lulled her into a quiet feeling of contentment.

"I know," Jo sighed. She thought of something though. "We are officially off duty..." It was a noble try and even garnered a small laugh from the beautiful woman in her arms.

Blair slowly extracted herself from their embrace, immediately regretting it as the cold air spared no time filling in the space between them. She buttoned the top buttons of Jo's jacket with nervous fingers. "We should go back," she said softly.

Right. Jo took a step back. "We don't want people to start talking." She said it with a tinge of regret as they silently walked from the balcony toward the elevator.

Once inside, Blair turned and leaned against the elevator doors as she looked at Jo with a slightly sad expression. She glanced down at her feet then back up into the soft gaze. "I feel like I owe you an apology."

Jo was at a loss for words, not quite following. "For?"

Blair shrugged. "Dragging you up here, then kissing you." She saw Jo start to protest, "Yes, I was jealous."

An admission.

And one that rightfully stopped the brunette from saying anything in return. She couldn't help but feel a warm feeling of happiness arise in her chest. She felt flattered and humbled at the same time. "You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of." Jo knew they were just simple words, but... it was what she thought Blair needed to hear; and she was rewarded with a smile that said, 'thank you'.

Jo let her eyes roam over the woman in front of her. She noticed a blush had taken up residence on Blair's face, her neck - adorned with a lavish diamond necklace. Real no doubt. She noticed another chain underneath it... it looked familiar. She looked into brown eyes before letting her fingertips touch it, then drew the necklace from under her jacket, holding it on her fingertips.

"You wore it." A delighted smile.

Blair blushed even deeper, if that was possible. "I figured it would be a nice accessory to my outfit."

That may have been a lie, but Jo accepted it. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if the necklace was going to be thrown back at her when she'd first given it to Blair at Florenza's Cafe. She was Blair's secret Santa this year.

Jo looked at the smooth stone medallion. "I'd like to think you were the accessory that made this look nice." She followed that up with a teasing, yet sincere smile.

Corny but cute, and Blair hummed a smile in response. "It's beautiful, where'd you get it?"

"I got it while on assignment." A shrug. "My last assignment."

Jo meant Gragon. She'd had the stone that Empress Milkino had given her cut and attached to the necklace just for Blair. It's meaning weighing the most value in her decision to give it to blonde for Christmas.

"It seems special." Blair picked it up and turned it in her fingers, looking at the different colors and how they played in the light.

"It is." That was all Jo was able to offer. "I wanted you to have it. It's supposed to represent perseverance."

Blair smiled, understanding in more ways than one. The past year had been a whirlwind and, without determination, she wouldn't have made it through.

"Your being president of Warner and everything..." Jo said softly. She saw the grateful look, and closed her eyes as Blair gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you." Blair tucked it back under the diamond necklace, then unbuttoned the coat - handing it back to Jo.

She adjusted her mink stole around her shoulders as Jo put her jacket back on, pulling the sleeves straight. A quiet understanding embraced them, as they prepared themselves.

"So..." Blair began, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She chose to leave her hair down. It felt more comfortable that way...and besides... Jo liked it.

Jo placed her hands in her pockets. "So." A smile. "I guess we..."

"Should get back to reality." Blair finished and they both laughed a little at that. A small silence floated in, as their glances became shy.

Jo moved to hit the down button, when she felt her hand softly gripped. She looked at Blair who wore a whimsical expression as she laced their fingers together.

Blair blinked, trying to gather what she wanted to say. "I enjoyed being with you tonight," she said breathily. "Just me and you," she whispered.

Jo's jaw sagged slightly at the words, their impact and the affect they had on her. She couldn't deny it... couldn't deny the happiness she felt when she held Blair, how her heart beat out of her chest when they'd kissed... how breaking the rules and potentially ruining a new project was shoved to the side for a few moments of something she'd never thought she'd ever feel in her life.

However fleeting...

They knew once they got on that elevator and the doors opened again... reality would be on the other side, waiting to embrace them with it's cold truth and harsh judgement.

It was sobering, and they stood still, looking sadly at each other as that reality sunk in. Jo suddenly found herself pushed up against the elevator doors as Blair wrapped her arms around her. She buried her head in a strong shoulder as warm arms hugged her in return.

Jo held on, her grip tightening around a waist. "Blair..."

A small gasp, then, "God... what are we going to do?" a head buried again in Jo's shoulder.

Jo looked up at the ceiling, willing something... anything, to give them an easy way. A sigh. "I don't know," she said softly.

Slowly they pulled from the embrace. Blair nodded absently. She kept her eyes from meeting Jo's. Turning, she smoothed her dress, then pushed the down button of the elevator. Jo could do nothing but watch as the doors slid open and they got on silently... standing side by side as the car took them down.

Down to what they both knew would be waiting for them. The challenges, the obstacles. And yet... as they stood there, they were aware of a sense of peace, of strength; a thread of hope there, right between them. They didn't acknowledge it... didn't have to, but it was there.

Two more floors to go. They both stared ahead; there was a whisper of touch as their fingers grazed, then joined for a second before the doors slid open.

Dropping the hand, Blair was the first to step off... without a word or a glance backward... she left, her heels clicking on the marbled floor, and all Jo could do was watch as she blended back into the world.

* * *

"Jo! There you are."

David Warner had finally caught up to her at the buffet table. She was working on piling a small plate of shrimp and other dishes she didn't quite know the name of. Acknowledging the CEO, she turned and gave him a smile. "How's everything?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing." David was working on his third drink of the evening, and Jo could tell he was a little affected by that. "How's Blair?" he said a little loudly.

Jo hiked a brow then finished gathering a few extravagant looking crackers onto her plate. She took a bite, relishing in the surprising flavor. "She's fine. We talked." She wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Good, good." David patted her rather heavy handed on the back. He got close to her ear. "Anything suspicious happening?" He said with a slur, and louder than necessary.

Jo kept up a straight face and put on a demeanor of having small talk. "Nothing out of the ordinary," was all she offered, hoping that would appease him. It wasn't a good idea to get into the logistics of a surveillance operation with a client that was slightly unstable.

"You'll let me know if there is?" an unfocused gaze and a brow hike, David Warner took a sip from his drink.

Jo's smile was staged. "Sure." She wanted to take the glass from him and replace it with a cup of coffee. She got close to him. "Mr. Warner, I'm going to have to ask that you not ask me any more questions... sir," she added with a smile.

Rounded eyes acknowledged the seriousness as a lone finger went up to lips. "Shhh..." a wink. "I got it. No more talk, gotcha." David tipped the last of his drink back, then set it down on the edge of the buffet table.

Jo watched him. "Thanks. And uh..."

"What?" David eyed her.

"You might want to lay off the drinks for a while... sir." Jo looked around while taking a bite of shrimp.

David pursed his lips, licking them. "Yeah, yeah, fine..." He patted her on the back again. "Good job, good job."

Jo watched with relief as he walked away. That would be the last thing they needed... an overheard conversation. There were so many devices on the market now-a-days that could intrude on a basic conversation. She bit into a cracker.

" _Agent_."

Jo put her plate down and tapped the back of her ear. "Here." She kept a napkin to her face, pretending to wipe it.

" _This is two. We've got suspicious activity. Male, tall build, slender,_ _graying hair on the temples,_ _wearing a black tuxedo. Guy's been scoping the place for the last half hour; not sure if he's armed."_

Jo moved to a slightly less occupied part of the ballroom - it was by one of the columns. "What part of the floor?"

 _"He's by the ice sculptures. I'm not sure who he's surveilling. He's not one of ours."_

Jo made her way over to the ice sculptures... they were gaudy; and made it obvious there was a wildlife theme tonight. She looked around until she saw someone duck behind one of the columns. The man popped back up again, having caught her eye, he gave her a sneer.

"I'm made." She started following him. "Get me covered. I'm moving east toward the kitchen."

" _I have you, Agent. This is one_."

" _This is three, Agent. We can get him covered on the other side. If you can get him in the kitchen we can make this a nonevent_."

Jo walked faster, the man in front of her was moving swiftly; obviously trying to get away. "Not a problem. He seems to be headed that way."

The kitchen was busy as dinner was in full swing and waiters as well as kitchen staff were busy bringing food and plates in and out. Jo saw the man head for the back of the kitchen.

This had to be done quickly, and not to mention carefully. Clearing out the kitchen was the first priority. Jo took out her secret service credentials.

"Who's my contact in here?"

" _Chef Morgan_." Agent one informed.

Jo looked around until she found him. Reading his name tag, she carefully made her way over. He was stirring a large bowl of liquid.

"Morgan?"

The Chef nodded. He was an informant. "Problem?"

Jo showed him her credentials discreetly. The man nodded, still keeping a beat with his spoon.

"I need you to clear the kitchen." Jo dipped her finger into the bowl pretending to be calm about the situation.

No questions were asked as Morgan sat his bowl down. "Everyone, please remain calm. I'm asking that you clear the area immediately, we have a situation," he said as calmly as possible. "Please refrain from mentioning this to the guests, we don't want to alarm them."

 _"I'm in, Agent."_ Number two announced. " _In the back. I don't see him yet."_

"Good. I'm moving people out now." Jo said.

Several eyes went round with fear, as feet started to shuffle. Luckily no one asked any questions as utensils were dropped and ovens were quickly turned off. A few seconds later the kitchen was cleared.

Jo carefully went around the corner. "I'll distract him."

She pressed herself up against the side of a freezer as she slid around the corner... a loud crashing noise alerted her to the suspects location. She quickly moved into the clearing as the man and a gun popped up from behind a vegetable prepping table.

Jo took a quick assessment, he had a silencer on his gun. At least if it was fired it wouldn't scare the guests. She smirked at him.

"We can do this the hard way or you can come with us." She saw him look frantically around at the word 'us.' He sneered at her again.

 _So you're not a talker_. Jo moved closer to the man, very much aware of the gun pointed at her head. "We don't have to do this the hard way."

She knew the people Barry Winstead had hired were not aware he was presently in FBI custody. They were simply hired to carry out a mission to completion and get paid.

Jo decided to use that to her advantage. "You're a lone wolf," she put on a small condescending grin. "Out here on your own," she moved closer, noticing the gun start to shake. "We have your boss in custody."

"You lie!" The man was sweating, his eyes skittishly looking around the kitchen.

Jo threw up her hands and shrugged. "Why would I lie?"

The man looked bewhildered for a spilt second... that's all it took. A fraction of a second later he found the gun kicked out of his hand. It startled him and he rushed at Jo taking a swing at her head. That was dodged, but not the next blow that came to her ribs...

She doubled over and fell as a sharp pain gripped her. The man saw an opening and grabbed a knife from a nearby table; then held it up before his legs were taken out from under him. Jo had swept his feet from the ground as the knife came out of his grip and she took the opportunity to punch him in the face.

She could've finished him off, but they wanted him conscious. She held back, watching as he was trying to focus, shaking his head. She looked up as three agents entered the kitchen. "Here!"

They approached her seeing the man lying on the floor. Agent two looked at Jo who seemed to be hunched over, hugging her stomach. "Good job," he gave her a smile.

Agent one handcuffed the man and dragged him out of the kitchen with the help of Agent three. Jo was still breathing hard, which was becoming painful as she realized her ribs may have been bruised. "Great."

"You okay, Agent?" Agent two reached over to one of the tables and handed her a napkin. "Here... you have a little..." he pointed to her lip, which had a spot of blood on it.

Jo dabbed at it, realizing she had been somehow nicked by the knife. It was a small cut, but... damn it hurt like a paper cut to the lip. "Yeah, I'm fine," she grunted as she stood up.

"We'll get him over to headquarters." The agent frowned at the grimace Jo was giving him as she nodded her head. "We'll need your account in the morning."

"No problem," Jo breathed.

"We've got three fresh eyes out there, if anything else transpires," he informed. He saw the brunette grimace again. "You okay?"

Jo blew out a breath. "He popped me one in the ribs... I'll live." She gave him what she thought was a 'drop it already' smile.

Agent two sucked his teeth. "I suggest you let us take over from here Agent."

Jo shot him a glare. "I have a client to protect," she protested.

The man gave her a frank look. "In this condition? We can easily assign another-"

"I've been assigned to her, I'll guard her!" Jo coughed then tried to straighten herself to full height. A discomforted noise came from her. She was fully capable of carrying out her mission... pain be damned.

Agent two watched her, his face clearly in disagreement. He waited a beat. "Alright, Agent. But if you need any back up..."

"Got ya'..." Jo waved a weary hand at him. She dabbed her lip again, closing her eyes in pain.

Agent two nodded. "I'll let them know it's safe to come back in," he announced. "We'll induce him then get him into interrogation." He then moved to exit the kitchen.

It was understood - the code of agents was a silent one when it came to personal decisions. Especially when it came to following through on a mission. If an agent was hurt, it was his or her decision, not the lead or commanding agent, to make the call. They'd been trained to ignore pain, ignore feelings when lives were on the line. Finish the job, see to the safety of the client was the main drive. Close the case then move on to the next.

Jo had kept that close to the vest. She kept running the agents code of decisions through her head as she made her way to the ballroom. She grunted with each step, but managed to keep a low profile. Grabbing a drink from the buffet table, she brought it to her lips, then decided better, setting it back down.

There was a crowd gathered around the center of the ballroom and the brunette had managed to find a small clearing beside a column. She leaned against it, sighing with relief as drops of sweat beaded on her forehead. Jo braced herself up against the marble column, thankful for its presence as she saw what was happening...

Several couples had taken to the floor, the music from a live band flowed loudly as onlookers smiled and clapped as each couple whisked by. It was then that she saw one of the couples... Blair and Mark; and she kept her eyes on them as they glided about the floor.

She couldn't help it as a quiet smile etched her face... Blair was enjoying every moment. The smile she wore... the beauty of her steps as Mark led them across the floor. Leaning her head back on the column, Jo sighed as her eyes hooded. _She is so beautiful..._

The song finally finished and Blair gave Mark a peck on the cheek, unaware of green eyes on her... of how they had narrowed at the sight. Jo took in a lungful of air and immediately regretted it as a wave of pain flooded her side. She almost doubled over, but remained on her feet... her eyes riveted to the couple.

Blair had linked her arm in Mark's and was smiling... that charming smile; her eyes twinkling as they walked arm in arm from the dance floor. Jo grimaced then dabbed her lip as she perched herself against the column; choosing to stay there for just a while.

She adjusted her weight as she leaned... it had been a long night, but at least they had averted immediate danger... for now. She kept a close eye on Blair, determined not to let anymore danger happen... even if it took everything out of her, she would see to it.

Keeping Blair safe... _the client_ , she reminded herself as she closed her eyes... remembering just a few moments ago. Where they were: upstairs, on the balcony. Away from everything and everyone... and it felt like a million miles away from any danger, from any speculation and obstacles that could be put in their way.

Jo watched as the blonde tipped her head back in laughter... she noticed Mark reach an arm around Blair's waist, resting his hand on her hip. Blair had barely acknowledged it, keeping a rapt conversation with the woman she was talking to.

Jo sighed... Blair's word's coming back to her, she smiled wistfully.

 _Just me and you_.


End file.
